Jody's House for Wayward Girls
by Kii Reyth
Summary: Sara has never had a real home. Running from a troubled past and mysterious father, she finds herself being stalked by demons and hunted by angels - until the day she runs into Jody Mills, along with Alex and Claire, and thinks she may finally have a home and a shot at a normal life. Until they introduce her to the Winchesters, that is. Stay tuned for stupid nicknames and bad puns!
1. Chapter 1

**This begins a few weeks before Sam goes to the Cage and Dean has that hella awkward kiss with Amara. It will catch up with the show soon.**

 **Sara is a completely OC I created for dramatic purposes. You'll find out.**

* * *

The silence inside of the police cruiser was heavy, the tension so thick it could be cut with one of the many knives that could be found hidden around the vehicle. No one said a word – not Jody, who was driving, lips pursed and clenching the steering wheel with both hands, nor Alex, who sat in the passenger seat, wanting to say something but knowing better – and especially not Claire, who sat in the back, slouched in her seat with her arms crossed and glaring out the window at the pouring rain.

It was when Claire pulled out her phone that Jody cut her eyes to the rear view mirror, reached back, and snatched it from the teens hand.

"Hey!" Claire complained.

"Nu-uh," Jody said, shoving the phone under her seat. "Grounded. For . . . I don't know how long yet. A _long_ time."

"That's not fair!" Claire argued.

"No, Claire, what's not fair is what you did to that girl," Jody snapped back. "What's not fair is that you got Alex in trouble! What on earth possessed you to attack someone like that? If Alex hadn't pulled you off her, who knows what you would have done!"

"She had it comin'," Claire mumbled, leaning back into the seat.

"Why?" Jody demanded.

"It was my fault," Alex said quietly.

"No it wasn't, shut up," Claire said weakly.

"You hush," Jody commanded. "I want to hear what Alex has to say."

"Tara got mad because I wouldn't sell her weed," Alex continued, twisting the silver ring on her right hand. It had been a gift from Jody on their first Christmas, and she rarely took it off, and always fiddled with it when she got nervous. "I told her I didn't do that anymore, and she got pissed is all."

"She called you a freak!" Claire said. "She said no one loved her, and that's why she doesn't have any parents."

"You and I both know Alex doesn't get bothered by that stuff," Jody told Claire.

"Yeah, but then she started talking shit about my parents, too," Claire mumbled.

"Watch the language," Jody scolded halfheartedly. She knew Claire had problems at school. And she'd thought Alex had issues. But to watch one parent die in front of you, and knowing the other was dead but his body was still being used, that was rough.

Jody sighed. "Claire," she finally said. "I know the transition back into school has been hard for you. But that girl didn't stand a chance against you, and the school isn't going to raise a finger to her because she's the star cheerleader. Here's a life lesson, kid – people like that are gonna peak in high school, and then you know what happens?"

"What?" Alex asked.

"They have four kids and get fat."

They laughed, and even Claire let herself grin a little bit.

"I want you girls to remember something," Jody continued. "You've been through more than anyone should ever have to go through in an entire lifetime, in just a few years. You're both stronger, both mentally and physically, than those other kids. And you're smarter. You get that from me."

They laughed again.

"I'm sorry, Jody," Claire said after a moment.

Jody sighed. "I'm not letting you off the hook," she warned. "But I think the suspension and detention is enough punishment for now." She handed her back her phone.

Claire smiled. "Thanks."

Jody smiled back in the rear view mirror. "Just keep your nose clean from now on."

"Jody, look out!" Alex screamed, and Jody slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel sharply. The girl in the road stood like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the car stopped inches from her.

"Please help," she gasped, and as she leaned forward on the car, Jody could see she was bleeding.

"Oh my god," Jody muttered, scrambling from the car and running towards the girl. "Alex, call nine one one."

"No," the girl cried, eyes wide and in shock. "Please. No hospitals. They'll find me, please."

"What's wrong with her?" Claire demanded, getting out of the car.

"I don't know," Jody said, catching the girl as her eyes started to roll back into her head. "She's losing blood. We need to get her back to the house."

"What about the hospital?" Alex asked, shaken.

"She said someone's after her," Jody said, lifting the girl. "We'll take her home and see how bad it is."

Claire got into the driver's seat, and Jody got into the back, holding the girl. Her hand was closed tightly over her wound, so Jody couldn't see how bad it was. She stroked her soaked hair back from her face, talking quietly and telling her it'd be alright and to just hold on.

Claire pulled onto the road that led to the old farmhouse Jody had inherited from a cousin not long after her son and husband had died. She'd moved out as soon as possible, unable to bear living in the house where . . . _it_ happened.

Claire parked right in front of the door, and Jody carried the girl inside. Alex's cat, Jericho, was sitting on the porch, washing his face. His fur stood on end and he hissed as Jody passed, and Alex didn't even notice how out of character it was.

"Claire, get me some towels," Jody ordered, laying the girl on the sofa. "Alex, the first aid kid."

As the girls scrambled for the items, Jody examined the girl, trying to get an idea of where she came from, or who she was. She was about Claire and Alex's age, maybe seventeen, only she was smaller – very petite, she couldn't weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet, and Jody couldn't help but notice that she seemed slightly malnourished. Her soaked hair was a deep, coppery red, falling in heavy waves halfway down her back and sticking to her clothes and face. She wore a green sweater and holy jeans with a pair of heavy hiking boots, and she had a too-big bomber jacket on. Her features were soft and gentle, but Jody noticed her knuckles were bruised.

The girls arrived, and Jody pulled off the girl's jacket and lifted her shirt, revealing a decent sized gash in her side, dripping blood.

"It's deep, but I don't think it's fatal," Jody said, more to reassure herself than the others. She opened the first aid kit and found some items to stitch the wound with. The girl flinched in her unconscious state, and Jody felt a twinge of guilt – but the girl said no hospitals, and she had to seal the wound.

She finished stitching it and cleaned it, then examined the girl for more wounds. She had a scrape under her eye, and her knees and elbows were bruised as though she'd fallen down a lot. Her clothes were also ripped, and Jody wondered if she'd cut through the forest.

"Claire, can you bring me one of your clean shirts?" Jody asked as she lifted the girl. Claire nodded and ran off, and Jody carried her up to the guest room they had set up for when they had visitors, usually Donna Hamscum or Linda Tran. She removed the girl's shoes and pants, relieved to see she had a pair of flannel leggings on underneath that had been mostly spared. At least she wouldn't have to worry about frost bite. She exchanged her shirt for one of Claire's clean, warm ones and pulled the blankets up over her. Jody checked her pulse, relieved that it was mostly regular.

"Where did she come from?" Claire was whispering to Alex in the hall as Jody exited.

"I don't know," Alex replied. "The woods, maybe? She was just sort of there."

"Did you notice anything funny? How'd she smell?"

"Not like sulfur, if that's what you're thinking."

"She's not a demon," Jody interrupted, joining them as she crossed her arms. "She wouldn't have made it past the Devil's Trap in front of the door. I think she's just a kid in trouble. We'll find out when she wakes up."

"She sounded different," Alex frowned.

"She was British," Jody replied. "I think. Maybe Scottish . . . she didn't really talk enough."

"Is she going to be okay?" Claire asked, and Jody asked herself the same thing.

"Of course," she said. "But you two need to go to bed. You have school tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't know where she came from. She was just in front of my car all of the sudden. Said someone was after her."

"Poor kiddo. Is she awake yet?"

Jody opened the door quietly, checking on the girl, who was sleeping soundly. She shut the door and rubbed her forehead for a moment, bringing her phone back to her ear. "Not yet. The girls instantly pegged her for a demon. How messed up is _that_? I'm failing these girls, Donna."

"Oh, no you're not," Donna reassured her. "You're doing great. It's not your fault they grew up in this creepy crawly kind of world."

Jody had to agree with her. "You got me there. Alex didn't even want to go to school today. I made her, though, and Claire went with her to pick up her homework for her suspension, which is _another_ thing I have to deal with."

"Want I should come down there for a few days? Help you out?" Donna offered.

Jody shook her head, then remembered she was on the phone. "No," she said. "Thanks anyway, though. I've got this. If I need anything I'll let you know."

"Alrighty, then, Jodeo. Call me later and tell me how things are going."

"Will do," Jody said, hanging up. She went downstairs, filling a pitcher with ice water and putting it on a tray, along with a glass, and headed back upstairs. She set the tray on the nightstand next to the bed, and was surprised when she saw the girl stirring.

"Easy there, kiddo," Jody said as the girl sat up in bed, gasping, dark eyes darting around. Jody swore she'd seen those exact eyes before, and for some reason they were extremely unsettling. Jody shook it off, and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, and the girl flinched.

"It's alright," Jody said softly. "You're alright. My name's Jody, you ran out in front of my car last night. Do you remember that?"

Slowly, the girl nodded.

"Here," Jody said, pouring her some water and handing it to her. "You gave me a scare. But you said no hospitals, so I brought you here to my house. Can you tell me your name?"

The girl drank deeply, and took a deep breath as she looked around. "Sara," she said cautiously.

"That's a pretty name. What were you running from, Sara? It's okay – I'm a cop."

Sara looked around some more, and down at her shirt, and back up at the window. "I – I don't know," she stammered. "They had knives . . . I think one of them got me."

"Yeah, I fixed you up," Jody said. "You'll be sore for a few days, but I promise no one can get to you here."

Sara looked relieved, and sank back into her pillows a bit. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"These people who tried to hurt you," Jody started softly. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

"I . . . it's fuzzy," Sara said, and it was obvious to Jody she was lying.

"Alright," Jody said with a gentle smile. The door downstairs slammed, and Sara flinched and stiffened.

"It's okay," Jody said quickly. "It's just my foster daughter, Claire. She got suspended from school, so she's home."

Sara smiled weakly. "I have some experience with that."

"Can you believe this?" Claire demanded loudly as she stomped up the stairs. "They gave me extra work. What kind of bullshit is this?"

"You shouldn't have hit that girl," Jody called back, and Claire opened the door.

"Oh," Claire said awkwardly. "Uh, hey.

"Claire," Jody said, standing. "This is Sara. Sara, this is Claire." She looked at Claire. "Sit with her while I go get her some Advil, okay?"

"Sure," Claire said, dropping her backpack by the door and plopping down into the chair Jody had just been in. "So, you ran out in front of our car."

"Sorry about that," Sara said, tucking some hair behind her ear. "But to be fair, getting hit by a car was better than the alternative."

"To what?" Claire asked, kicking her feet up.

"It's . . . a really long, crazy story," Sara told her.

"Girl, you have no idea." Claire crossed her arms. "So what're you doing here?"

"You foster mother . . ."

"No, like, America?" Claire raised her eyebrows. "You sound like someone out of Game of Thrones or something."

Sara laughed. "I'm from Leeds. Then Manchester. Then London. And then I guess New York."

"You've been around, huh?"

"Foster homes until I was sixteen," Sara admitted. "Then I ran."

"All the way to the ol' USA."

Sara laughed again. "Yeah, guess so."

"I mean, I totally get it," Claire continued. "Foster care is the worst. Well, it was."

"You like it here, then?" Sara asked.

"Heck yeah," Claire said. "Jody is the best. Some pretty crazy stuff went on in my life since, well, I can remember. My dad . . . well, he disappeared and it kinda drove my mom crazy, so she ran away to look for him. Then there were the grandparents, then foster homes, then last year, I found my mom but she died. But Jody? She took me in right away. Honestly, she's more of a mom to me than my mom had been in years. Same with Alex."

"Alex?"

"Oh, yeah. Jody's other foster kid. Her family was _completely_ crazy and Jody totally rescued her. She does stuff like that. She's like . . . supermom."

Jody listened from outside the door, and tried to keep her eyes from getting too wet. She took a deep breath and entered the room, a bottle of ibuprofen in hand.

"These should help," she said.

"Thanks," Sara smiled. "You're being so kind to me. I appreciate it." She sat up, going to stand.

"Hey, take it easy," Claire said. "You just got stabbed."

"I have a pretty high pain tolerance," Sara said. "I need to go, though."

"Hold on now," Jody said. "I can't just let an injured teenager wander off by herself."

"I'll be okay," Sara protested.

"Stay," Claire said, grabbing her hand, and Sara looked at her. "For a night, at least. Then you can totally ditch the place, I'll help you make a rope out of clothes and escape and everything."

Sara smiled again. "Well, okay. Would it be alright if I took a shower, Jody? I feel a bit grungy."

"Of course," Jody smiled. "We just had a new shower installed in the downstairs bathroom, come on."

She started to lead the girls down the stairs when there was a knock. Jody looked at Claire, who nodded and helped Sara down the stairs while Jody went to answer the door.

Sara stopped, though, when she heard their voices.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked.

"Those are the men from last night," she hissed. "Don't let them see me. They might kill _all_ of us."

"They can try," Claire grumbled, but listened.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anyone fitting that description, and I'm the sheriff," Jody was saying. "If any runaways come through town, I'll be sure to give you a call. Goodbye."

She shut the door, waited a few minutes, and called "Coast is clear!"

"Who were those guys?" Claire asked as they joined Jody.

"No one good," Jody said, frowning. "They're looking for Sara."

"You turned them away," Sara said in surprise. "Why did you do that?"

"I had a gut feeling," Jody said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door. "Sara, what kind of trouble are you in?"

Sara hesitated. "I really can't say. Please. You wouldn't believe me."

Claire and Jody looked at each other.

"Try us," they said in unison.

Sara shook her head. "For some reason, those men . . . they think I'm a demon."


	3. Chapter 3

Jody sat a cup of tea in front of Sara, who smiled appreciatively.

Ever since she was a little girl, Sara has a knack for telling what people were like. She could tell who was good and who was bad. What they were thinking – not exactly, of course, but she was good at reading the signs – body language, facial expressions, tones. And for some reason, Jody Mills wasn't totally freaked out at the thought of demons. She didn't even look all that bothered. More . . . tense. Even Claire had began to listen intently when Sara spoke.

Which she did. A lot. She explained about her parents, how her mother, Regina, died in some sort of wild animal attack. She didn't remember her mother ever going anywhere where there were animals, but then again, she was only five when she died.

Her mother had told her about her father with such admiration and love, that for her first few years, Sara loved him as fiercely as Regina had. He was a wealthy businessman she'd met while in college in Manchester. They fell in love, had even talked about getting married, but Regina had gotten pregnant with Sara. But her father had leave on business, and visited less and less during Regina's pregnancy. Then he stopped coming altogether.

Regina never stopped loving on him, and was sure he'd come back. He would send gifts, occasionally, for Sara – money, dresses, trinkets, all sorts of things, and continued to do so even after Regina died. Sara grew to resent him as she got older – she had never met him, not once, and had no photos or anything, not even a name. He always signed his cards as "your father." She grew to hate him as he never came and got her, and she was forced to live in the system. The last time Sara received anything from him, it was three thousand dollars on her sixteenth birthday. Usually the foster parents Sara ended up with were awful, and would take anything he'd send her. However, she had gotten to this cash first, and used it to come to America, where she ran and lived on her own for five months.

She paused, taking a deep drink of tea, and sighed.

"So you came to America and lived on the streets for five whole months?" Claire asked.

"Yep," Sara sighed, shoving some hair behind her ear. She really needed to cut it. "And then about eight months ago, people started following me. People in suits. I always outran them – when I was younger I had 'anger issues', so I put it into exercise. Boxing, running, anything like that. So I never had a problem outrunning them. But this past month, something is . . . different."

"Like what, sweetie?" Jody asked.

"The others, from the beginning," Sara frowned. "Something about them felt . . . awful. Like anger and hate and also power radiated off of them. But they never tried to hurt me. But lately, the ones tracking me . . . they don't feel wrong, like bad or anything, but they have this power about them that is outrageous. And they're much more interested in hurting me."

"They're the ones that kabobbed you, huh?" Claire asked.

Sara smiled. Claire was amusing, and also kind in her own way. She liked her. "Yes," she said. "But their weapons were so odd. They almost looked like swords. All silver, and thin. And very sharp, I can assure you."

"Be right back," Claire said, jumping up and running up the stairs.

"Sara," Jody said, looking at the girl with kind eyes. "Do you have any family at all? Besides for your father? Anyone who could have enemies . . .?"

Sara shook her head, frowning. "Well, my grandmother visited once," she remembered. "When I was quite small. She didn't care for mum much. She wanted me to come live with her, but my mum refused, and I never saw grandmother again after that."

"Who was she?"

"No idea," Sara shrugged. "Mum said I look like her, though."

"Did their blades look like this?" Claire reentered, holding a small, silver sword, and Sara gasped, standing and taking it.

"Exactly!" she said, examining it.

"Claire, where did you get that?" Jody sounded more annoyed than frightened at the prospect of her foster child having a blade.

"This one? It's Castiel's," she shrugged. "Or, it was."

"Did you steal it?"

"Borrowed. But yeah, I lifted it."

"This is almost the exact weapon they were using," Sara continued, completely dumbfounded. "Where did you get this?"

"Long story. But now we know who's after you."

"Really? Who?"

"Claire," Jody cleared her throat. "Go pick up Alex from school."

"But –"

"Now," Jody said, standing. "Sara has had a long day. We can talk after she's had a shower and something to eat. How about you pick up a pizza on the way home?"

"Yeah, alright." She looked at Sara, who tried to hand the blade back, and shook her head. "Keep it. I have another. Besides, you might need it sometime."

* * *

Dean Winchester was half asleep at the table when his brother loudly placed a beer in front of him.

"Dude," Sam said, sitting across from him. "You've been at it for like, a half an hour."

"Twenty minutes, actually," Castiel corrected from down the table.

"I can't help it," Dean grumbled. "This is boring. There is no lore on the Darkness, Sam. Alright? You know it. I know it. Cas knows it. Amara knows it. Crowley knows it. The old lady down the street probably knows it. _It's a dead end_."

Sam sighed, knowing his brother was right, but wouldn't give up. "Listen, man, maybe if these visions really do mean something . . ."

"Sam, I swear to God, wherever his holy ass may be, that if you even _mention_ Lucifer . . ."

His phone rang, and he looked at Sam. "We're not done here," he said, before reading the caller ID. He frowned. "It's Claire." He answered, putting it on speaker. "Miley, what's happening?"

"Come up with some new material, James Spader," the teen bit back, and Dean looked mildly offended.

"Claire, is everything alright?" Castiel frowned, concerned.

"Depends," Claire replied. "Is there any reason a bunch of angels attacking a teenage girl would be alright?"

"Whoa, whoa, who got attacked?" Sam asked quickly. "Are you and Alex okay?"

"We're fine; it's this girl who ran into us – literally. We were on our way home and this chick runs out in front of the car, bleeding from a stab wound. Says she was stabbed with an angel blade. I mean, she doesn't know it's an _angel_ blade, obviously, but she recognized mine."

"Where did you get an angel . . . blade," Castiel said slowly, and his frown deepened. "I thought I dropped that."

"You did. Out of your coat pocket. Into my hand. But that's not the weird part. So get this," she said, and Dean fought a grin at how Sam-like she sounded. "These angels think she's a demon for some reason."

"Is she?" Dean suggested.

"No. No traces of sulfur, crossed a Devil's trap without anything happening."

"How's the EMF?" Sam asked.

"Going crazy, but it always does. This house is super old, like four people died here. So I can't get a clean read on her. She's a nice kid, okay? I just . . . look, she's from out of the system, and I know what that's like. She's all alone out there and I want her to stay. But as long as those guys are out there, she's going to keep moving. I don't want her to die, so please . . . could you guys check it out?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other. They nodded. "We'll be there as soon as we can," Sam said.

"I'm coming too," Cas added.

"You _really_ don't have to do that, Castiel," Claire said.

"I'll be there."

"Alright, fine. Just, don't take too long, okay guys?"

"Watch your back, Taylor Swift," Dean told her.

"Keep trying, less attractive Dave Mustaine." She hung up.

Sam looked at Dean, who was frowning.

"Dude," he said. "I'm way better looking than Dave Mustaine. Right?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, stood, and headed for the kitchen.

"Right?" Dean called. "Sam? _Sam_?"

* * *

 **I hope you guys are enjoying the story! Don't forget to rate and review!**


	4. Chapter 4

"So, let me get this straight . . . not only are angels real and they want to kill me or maim me or something, but there are demons and magic and other . . . _things_ , too?"

The three girls sat in Alex's room, scattered. Claire was spinning in the computer chair; Alex was sat on the floor, painting her toenails; and Sara sat on her bed, holding a pillow and asking questions.

"You got it," Claire said.

"I was raised by vampires," Alex said nonchalantly.

"And your father . . . is an angel?" Sara asked, frowning.

"Not my dad," Claire said sharply. "Just his body. I know, it's weird. I mean . . . he's kinda dad-like. So that's . . . still weird, yeah. Still weird."

"It's not Cas you want anyway," Alex said, grinning and leaning back. "It's Dean."

"Ew, dude, that's like, my weird uncle twice removed or something like that," Claire said, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Alex, who laughed. "Besides, Sam is better looking."

"And Sam and Dean," Sara frowned. "They hunt these things? By _choice_?"

"Guess so," Claire shrugged. "I don't know much about them, except for Cas lives with them and they're like, famous as far as hunters go."

Sara shook her head. "This is so weird to me. Don't get me wrong – I believe you. It's just . . . there's this whole world I never even knew about. It's a lot to take in."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Claire nodded. "I was just a kid when Castiel invaded my dad's personal space."

"Do you blame him?" Sara asked curiously.

"I used to," Claire admitted. "I hated Cas because he looked like and talked like and _lived in_ my dad. But then I found out it was my dad's choice, and he died a hero. He helped save the world."

"That's something to look up to," Sara agreed. "What about your parents, Alex?"

"Dunno," Alex said, not bothered at all about the turn in conversation. "I only remember them a little. I was taken when I was just a kid, and I guess the Stockholm or whatever made me not miss them. I remember my mom and dad taking me to the park a lot. My dad liked baseball, and he was a paramedic. One of the only things I remember is his beeper going off at night and him kissing me goodnight and promising he'd see me in the morning. After Jody rescued me, I tried to find them. They got divorced. My dad moved halfway across the country and has a whole family of his own now. My mom, well . . . she OD'd. Brain damage. No one ever came forward so they pulled the plug."

"Don't you want to see your father?"

"I called him," she admitted. "But when I heard their voicemail, I hung up. He's so happy and his kids sound cute and his wife looks nice on Facebook. So I'm going to leave it."

"He'd want to see you," Claire said quietly.

"Maybe. But probably not." She shrugged. "I have Jody. She's the only family I need. Along with you, I mean."

"Your lives were so much more difficult than mine," Sara said. "And I was feeling sorry for myself. I'm ashamed."

"Um, there aren't a bunch of angels trying to stab us," Alex said.

"Point," Claire nodded.

They paused, and Claire and Alex looked at each other for a long moment.

"What?" Sara frowned.

"We were talking with Jody last night," Alex started.

"After you went to bed," Claire added. "Look, Sam and Dean, they're bad mofo's. They're going to stop these guys, and you won't have to run anymore."

"We want you to stay with us," Alex finished.

Sara blinked, surprised. "Oh."

"It's just, we know what it's like to feel alone," Claire said.

"Yeah, it sucks," Alex said.

"So, if you want, the guest room is yours," Claire finished.

Sara was taken aback. They'd only known her a day, and already they were offering her a place in their home? In their monster hunting, rebellious, women run home?

"You don't have to," Claire was saying quickly.

"Yes," Sara said. "I mean, yes. I want to stay."

A new life. A new day. No more running and hiding and living off of garbage and stealing . . . the thought of the bedroom down the hall made her heart beat a little faster. She was going to live here. With sisters. And a mother. And a cat and some dogs and there were actual chickens outside and an actual farm down the road. And she was going to go to school! She'd be able to go to college one day! Everything was going to be completely new.

"Do either of you have a pair of scissors?" she asked.

* * *

Jody opened the door, and smiled brightly as she hugged each of the Winchester boys and Castiel in turn. She also immediately instructed them to take their shoes off, which they found amusing.

The girls came down the stairs, and Dean had to admit, there was definitely something familiar in a "am I staring at a demon" kinda way when he saw the other girl, Sara. Her whole appearance was almost . . . melancholy, but also very unsettling, to him.

"Sara," Jody sounded surprised. "You cut your hair."

Sara reached up and self consciously touched her straight, copper hair. It was shoulder length now, lighter and breezier than her long, tangled curls were earlier that day.

"Claire did, actually," she said.

"I'm a style god," Claire admitted.

Jody smiled. "It looks great. Sara, I want you to meet some very good friends. This is Dean Winchester, his brother Sam, and this is Castiel."

"Hi," Sara waved, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you," Sam said, smiling. "Claire didn't mention you were British. Where are you from?"

"Leeds."

"No kidding? My favorite book takes place in Leeds . . ."

She relaxed as Sam talked to her in that assuring, kind way he had, and Dean examined her thoroughly. Her hair was almost the exact shade of Charlie's, he thought with a sad pang. A little darker, maybe. Her eyes gave nothing away; they were a deep, shining brown, darker than Sam's even, almost black. She looked older than her seventeen years, with a small but willowy body. For some reason, she reminded him of Bela, but he pushed that thought from his head.

"Hello, Claire," Castiel said, stepping forward to his vessel's daughter. "I brought you something."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't have to bring me something every time you visit, you know. You're not my dad."

"I think you'll like this one," he said, reaching into his inside coat pocket. He handed her a small box, and she frowned, opening it.

"A locket?" she raised an eyebrow, lifting the small, silver oval on a chain. On closer inspection, she found the same symbol Sam and Dean had tattooed on their chest, the anti-possession symbol, etched into it.

"Oh," she said. "Hey, thanks. Can never have too much protection." She started to put it back in the box.

"Open it," Cas urged, and she did. She blinked a few times, and swallowed.

"It's –" Cas started.

"My parents," she said softly. From one side, her mother's smiling face looked up at her, and on the other, Jimmy Novak pre-vessel. She blinked rapidly trying not to cry.

"Sam found the pictures online and somehow made them small enough to fit in that," he said, pointing at the necklace. "The necklace belonged to Sam and Dean's mother."

"We found it in one of our dads old storage sheds," Dean added.

"This was your moms?" Claire looked at it. "I – I can't accept this, it belongs to . . ."

"You," Dean said. "We're keeping it in the family."

Claire felt almost like puking. _Damn_. _Emotions_. What the hell, she asked herself as she put the necklace on and silently swore to never, ever take it off.

"Dinner!" Jody called from the kitchen.

"How're things, Alex?" Dean asked as they all headed towards the dining room. "Missing the vampire lifestyle?"

"Nah," she said, with a small grin. "Cold and undead's not really my color."

Dean smirked, and they all sat down.

"Should we pray?" Jody asked, her face deadly serious.

Sara started to hold her hands out, but stopped as everyone burst into laughter. Even the angel, Castiel, gave a slight smile.

"She makes that joke every night," Claire rolled her eyes, grinning as she began passing green beans around.

"And you always laugh," Jody grinned back.

"Hey," Claire said, grabbing some dinner rolls as the pork roast was passed around. "How's the hunt for God's Evil Twin going?"

"Stop calling the Darkness God's Evil Twin," Jody sighed.

"It's a good name!" Claire argued.

"Kinda is," Sam agreed in a mutter.

"And it's going nowhere," Dean added, taking a drink of his beer.

"You'll get a lead," Jody reassured him.

"We need to do more research," Sam said.

"We need Bobby," Dean corrected, and everyone was quiet. Even Claire and Alex didn't say anything, and Sara wondered who Bobby was.

"Almost four years now," Jody said quietly.

"We ain't seen the last of him," Dean swore.

"Well, I can agree with that," Castiel nodded. "I saw him just last year."

"How was he?" Jody asked as she cut her meat.

"He was . . . surly."

Sam, Dean, and Jody laughed again, and Sara found that she liked the sound of it, and smiled. She listened with interest as they exchanged stories, talked about old times, made inside jokes, and complimented each other. It was so much nicer than the dinners Sara used to have, with all the other kids screaming and fighting and throwing food.

"Sara wants to stay," Claire said after a while, and Jody dropped her fork.

"You – you do?" she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes," Sara said, turning as red as her hair. "I mean, if that's alright with you, Jody."

"Look at you, mama bear," Dean grinned at Jody, squeezing her shoulder.

"Sara, I would love for you to stay," Jody replied honestly. "I'll have to make some calls to your last foster home and get your citizenship on the road . . . and you'll have to go to school."

"When?" Sara asked excitedly, and Dean groaned.

"She's gonna be a Sam," he sighed, and Sam grinned.

"Dean's jealous because he didn't go to law school," Sam winked, and Sara smiled brightly. Family. What a great word. What a great life. Two days ago, if someone had asked her where she would be in a week, she would have said a bus to someplace warm, or in a shelter. But instead she was in a nice house, with a nice woman, nice girls her ages, nice hunters, everything was so _nice_.

Dean's cell phone rang, and he looked at it, sighing in annoyance, and stood.

"No phones at dinner," Jody said, only half joking.

"It's Crowley," Dean said grumpily. "Want me to say hi for you?"

"Go to hell, Winchester," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Would be, if Sam had his way," he grumped quietly, leaving the room and barking "What?" into his phone.

"What the hell does _that_ mean, Sam?" Jody demanded, turning on Sam and using her Mom Voice.

"Who's Crowley, then?" Sara asked Claire quietly as Sam tried to defend himself to Jody.

"The Big Bad from what I hear," she whispered back.

" _Was_ the Big Bad," Alex corrected, just as quiet. "Before his mom showed up."

"So, mother-son evil duo team up?" Sara asked.

"Guess so. Only he's also Dean's BFF," Claire shrugged, turning back to dinner.

"I heard that!" Dean said as he reentered. "And I was _not_ his BFF."

"You kinda were," Sam agreed, and Cas nodded in agreement.

Dean glared.

"Um, excuse me? Did you almost kiss him? No? Then shut up," Jody replied.

"Bobby did that one time," Dean said, and the adults were all laughing again.

"What'd he want?" Dean asked.

"Nothing important. There's this lead he's got for us. But we need things straightened out here."

"I should go see what he wants," Castiel said, standing. "The last thing we want is for him to show up here. I'll see what it's about and follow the lead, but I doubt it amounts to anything."

"Let me go!" Claire said excitedly. "Oh, please, please, _please_ let me go."

"Claire –"

"Come on, Cas, I'm never gonna be able to really protect myself without experience!" She begged. "So train me!'

"I don't think it's a good idea . . ."

"You said yourself, you don't think it's going to amount to anything!"

Castiel sighed. "What about school?"

"I'm suspended," she said, and Dean snorted in laughter.

Cas looked conflicted. On one hand, he wanted her to be safe. On the other, he wanted to spend time with her – he felt like he owed her that much. And he did want her to be able to protect herself.

He looked towards the others. "Jody?"

Jody didn't look happy. "Don't let her out of your sights. She stays in the car the whole time you're talking to him, and I want her decked out in protective symbols, Castiel. And if the lead goes somewhere dangerous, bring her bright back."

Claire was already out of her seat, running up the stairs to pack.

"It's like training a puppy," Dean said.

"Will she be safe?" Sara asked hesitantly.

"It's how we were trained," Sam admitted.

Moments later, Claire reappeared, a sloppily packed backpack slung over her shoulder and her angel blade hooked to her belt.

"We'll be back by tomorrow evening," Castiel promised. "Come on, Claire. My car's outside."

"The Pimp Mobile? Can't we take the –"

"Don't even think about it," Dean said without looking up from his dinner.

She rolled her eyes, but headed outside, Cas close behind her. "Hey, can I drive?" she asked as they left.

"I guess . . ." Cas mumbled, and Jody grinned and little bit and took a sip of her beer.

"He's in for it," she promised.


	5. Chapter 5

**So I want to mention in this story, I'll be focusing on the girls and their relationship with Jody, and in particular, Claire's relationship with Cas (and Lucifer, soon enough), Alex's relationship with a boy (I think you'll be happy to see him soon . . .) and Sara's relationship with the demons, the angels, her father, and her newfound life. I hope you guys are enjoying, and as always, don't forget to review!**

* * *

Crowley agreed to meet Castiel at Bobby's, which was a relief because it was close and also familiar. As he directed Claire where to go, he looked up at the sign, "Singer Salvage Yard." And the many, smaller signs after that, "No trespassing" "Trespassers will be shot" and "Go Away Crowley."

Claire stopped in front of the burned house, getting out and looking at it.

"What happened here?" she asked quietly, almost able to _feel_ the memories swirling around the place.

Cas stared at the house for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. "I did."

"Hey!" Claire said, running past Cas. "Is that a seventy one Chevelle?"

Bobby's car sat exactly where he'd left it, rusting and falling apart. Claire opened the door, looking inside, and Cas followed.

"You like cars?" he asked.

"Old ones? Love 'em," she said, sticking her head inside of the car, yanking some vines and leaves away, and then crawling in and sitting in the driver's seat. "Why do you think I'm always trying to get behind the wheel of the Impala? These old Chevy's are treasures."

"Your father liked classic cars," Cas acknowledged.

"Don't I know it. He used to have this calendar from like, nineteen eighty three hanging in his office with all sorts of different cars on it. Mom wanted him to take it down, but he kept it. Said it was vintage."

Cas smiled. "Do you know how to work on them?"

"A little."

"Then you should fix this one."

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "For real?"

"Yes. For real. This was Bobby's." he touched the roof, smiling a little. "I think he'd approve of it being passed on to the next generation. As a matter of fact . . ." He looked around. "This whole place . . . it went to Sam and Dean, but they don't come here. I think it hurts too much. They wouldn't mind if you fixed up any of these old cars. Perhaps you can make me something to replace my "pimp" mobile."

Claire laughed, and Cas smiled, glad he was bonding with her.

He looked at his watch. "Crowley won't be here for another half hour or so. It would be a good time to see if there's anything else around here worth retrieving."

He handed Claire a flashlight and they headed towards the house – or what was left of it. There was no doorway to step through, or any walls on the north side of the house. As Castiel stood in what used to be the living room, he felt a strong emotion stirring in him – sadness. The memories of this old place hit him hard, and he realized why Sam and Dean never came back here to go through Bobby's things.

His desk was half collapsed, but all the drawers were still locked. Cas was appalled at how quickly Claire picked the locks on them, struggling to get the first open. The first thing Cas saw was the picture.

Bobby had kept a copy after all, then. There they stood – Sam, Dean, Castiel, Ellen, and Jo, with Bobby in his chair. It was in a cheap frame, but unharmed.

Claire handed it to him, and he gave her a nod of thanks, taking the picture out of the frame and sliding it into his coat pocket.

Cas headed towards the kitchen, but the floor was gone, and he backtracked, searching through the rubble.

"Alright," Claire called after a few minutes. "I've got an address book, two journals, a bottle of scotch, a photo album, a metal box filled with stuff for spells, a spell book, the keys to the Chevelle, and a flash drive.

"Good, we'll take it all," Cas said, and Claire nodded, shoving the items into her bag.

"I'm going to check the panic room," Cas said.

"The what?"

"Go sit in the car and lock the doors. Now, Claire."

She rolled her eyes and huffed, but picked her way carefully out of the house. She tossed her bag into the car, and headed back towards the Chevelle, clearing away all the weeds and brush. She searched it, finding a lot of bullets, a container of salt, and two bottles of whiskey in the glove compartment, one empty, one unopened.

"How much did this guy drink?" she muttered, opening the unopened one and taking a drink before shoving the bottle into her coat pocket.

She got out and tried to push the car forward onto the gravel, where she could clean it up better. She pushed and pushed, but the wheels were flat, and it was a heavy machine. It hardly budged.

Suddenly, though, it lurched forward, and Claire fell forward onto the ground, watching the car pull forward, and then back, sitting perfectly on the gravel where she wanted it.

She looked to her left, and saw a man standing there, eyebrows raised in amusement, one hand shoved in his black coat pocket, the other lazily pointing at the car.

Claire knew who he was, obviously – she'd heard all about him, and it was never good.

"Thanks," she said anyway, scrambling up.

"Don't mention it," he said, and flicked his hand. Claire felt herself flying backwards, slamming against the side of van roughly. He walked towards her slowly, if not lazily, and looked her over.

"Well," he said. "You're wearing every piece of anti-possession protection there is, so you obviously know who _I_ am. So the question is, who are _you_?"

When she didn't answer right away, he lifted his hand, and it felt like an invisible fist was closing around Claire's windpipe. She gasped for breath, struggling against his grip.

"Crowley!"

Crwley turned, looking at Castiel, who had just emerged from the house.

"Ah, Cas. There you are."

"Put her down," Castiel growled.

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Is she yours?" he released her, and Claire fell to the ground, gasping and clutching her throat. "Apologies." He offered his hand to her, and she swatted it away, standing herself and rubbing her throat, glaring.

"Your qualifications for hunters these days are just sad, Castiel," Crowley said, shoving both hands into his pockets. But then he frowned. "For the love of Hell, you both have the exact same scowley face. Is that _your_ spawn, Cas?"

"My vessel's," Castiel replied gruffly.

"Well, that's an . . . odd relationship."

"What do you want?"

"I was expecting the Hardy Boys," Crowley said, watching Claire as she moved to the trunk of the Chevelle and unlocked up, pulling it up. "Not bring your daughter to work day – _watch it_ , you little prat!" He jumped backwards as a jar of holy war fell and crashed in front of him.

"Oops," Claire smiled sweetly, returning to the trunk and tossing out various guns, ammo, knives, and empty liquor bottles.

Crowley narrowed his eyes and took a few steps to his left, away from her. "Anyway," he continued. "It's about stopping the Darkness. I might have something for you."

"You mean you might having something for you that you're too afraid to look into," Castiel retorted.

"Take it how you will. Now, the lead? There's a new prophet."

"A new prophet?" Cas frowned, looking at Claire, then back to Crowley. "It's not a teenage girl, is it?"

"What?" Crowley frowned. "No. Some middle aged man from Ecuador living in Florida. Why?"

"I'll follow the lead," Cas said swiftly. "Thank you. Come on, Claire."

"Hold on, hold on," Claire said. "Maybe he knows something about –"

"Claire," Cas frowned. "We have it handled."

"I do love gossip," Crowley said, smirking.

Cas sighed. "Jody Mills is Claire's foster mother."

"Small world," Crowley chuckled. "Continue."

"They ran into a girl a yesterday. Literally, actually. She was running from angels and had been stabbed. It wasn't a killing blow. I have my suspicions they meant to wound her and take her alive."

"You didn't mention that," Claire said, in shock.

"I didn't want to scare her," Castiel said.

"Well, how 'bout it, Pazuzu?" Claire asked, looking at Crowley. "Before the angels shanked her she was being tailed by demons. Have any idea why either one would have any interest in a seventeen year old girl?"

"First of all, don't. Second, not a clue. I have better things to do with my time then know where teenagers hang out. If I wanted to do that, I'd follow them on twitter."

"Funny," Claire sneered, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Cas. Let's find ourselves a middle aged Ecuadorian." She headed towards the car, and Cas sighed.

"We'll call you if we find something," he said, heading for the passenger seat.

"The girl," Crowley called, and Cas turned and looked at him.

"What about her?" Cas asked.

"What's her name?"

Cas frowned. "Sara."

"Sara." Crowley smiled and nodded. "That's a beautiful name."

* * *

 **Is anyone keeping track of Claire's nicknames for people? I should really write them down.**


	6. Chapter 6

Sara could hear a snarling noise, and hot, wet breath close to her face. The rancid smell of blood and rotten flesh hit her, and her stomach rolled. She balled up her fists, and wailed. She was only five, after all, and she was quite scared in the dark.

She called out for her mother over and over, stumbling through the dark until she tripped over something sticky. Looking down, her mother's blank eyes stared up at her, her flesh torn from her throat, her chest, completely filleted open.

Sara cried, leaning down, hot, thick blood covering her dress and body as she threw herself around her mother, begging her to wake up.

 _Sara . . ._

 _Sara . . ._

 _"Hey! Sara!"_

Sara gasped and sat up, heart pounding and shaking.

Alex stood over her, her silhouette outlined by the moonlight streaming into the room. Her hair was tousled from sleep, but her eyes were wide and alert, and slightly panicked.

"I . . . I'm sorry," Sara said, feeling her cheek and finding it wet. "Was I crying?"

"Man, I thought you were dying in here or something." Alex released a breath, and Sara noticed she had a sawed off in her hands. She lowered it, laying it aside on the night stand. "I heard a crash and you crying, so I came running . . . but how the hell did you break a lamp all the way across the room?"

Sara's eyes followed Alex's hand, which was pointing at a large, heavy lamp laying shattered on the floor across the room. Sara swallowed and shook her head.

"I don't know," she said, her stomach still rolling – the scent of death still clung to the inside of her nose, and her eyes welled up with tears of disgust and panic. "I've never had a dream like this before. It was like . . . I was there for my mother's death. But when she died I was with a babysitter. She was at work. I don't know what I saw, or what I did." She sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs. "You must think I'm a freak."

"Move over, freak." Sara was surprised when Alex pulled the covers up, crawling into the bed.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked in confusion as Alex pushed her over.

"You had a nightmare and you're freaked out. I'm sleeping in here tonight." At Sara's confused expression, she raised her eyebrows. "So you somehow managed to knock a lamp over. Claire was a possessed by an angel one time. I was a vampire for like an hour once. I mean, obviously something is different about you, otherwise you wouldn't be stalked by Heaven and Hell. But the thing is you're my sister now, so I'm not going to let you sit here and be afraid. Jody's at work – some call came in about a robbery at a 7-11, so she doesn't even have to know about this." She grabbed one of Sara's pillows and got comfy. "So stop thinking about it and go to sleep already."

Sara smiled a little. So this is what kindness felt like. She rolled over, back to back with Alex, and fell into her pillow, laying quietly as Alex slowly fell asleep, her breathing slowing to a steady rhythm.

As Sara tried to fall asleep, though, all she could see was her mother, lying and bleeding at her feet, and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

* * *

Sara woke late the next morning, around eleven, to the sound of Johnny Cash and the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. She sat up, finding a note next to her bed.

 _S,_

 _Went to school, Jody's at work. Be back around three. Don't kill anymore lamps!_

 _A_

Sara smiled and got up, dressing in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and shoving her feet into some slippers. She headed down the stairs, finding the Winchesters in the kitchen. Dean was whistling along to Folsom Prison and cooking, and Sam was at the table, typing away at his laptop and frowning. He smiled, though, when Sara came into the kitchen.

"Hey," he said, nodding at the seat across from him. She sat, and suddenly found a plate of food in front of her as Dean moved to pour her some juice.

"How domestic," she grinned, and Dean shrugged and Sam laughed.

"Alex said you had a rough night," Dean said as he sat down, sliding a plate in front of Sam and digging into his own food.

"It was a bit more than that, actually," she said, and quickly explained. She left out the details of her dream, though, unable to stomach the grisly details.

Dean was frowning. "You don't sleepwalk or anything?"

"Never," she said. "That lamp is like fifteen pounds. It's an antique. Totally busted on the floor."

"Sounds familiar," Dean mumbled into his bacon.

"Have you ever had visions?" Sam asked, looking concerned. "Premonitions, maybe? Or have you ever accidentally moved anything else?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not that I know of. Why? Is that something that happens?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I mean, it shouldn't. Well, it happened to me, but that was a long time ago."

"You've had things like this happen to you?" Sara was surprised.

Sam and Dean exchanged amused looks.

"I'm infected with demon's blood," Sam mentioned.

"I was a demon like a year ago," Dean added.

"I've been possessed," Sam continued. "Several times. One time by Satan."

"I was a vampire that one time," Dean nodded.

"I've died . . . six times," Sam said, counting in his head.

"Eight," Dean countered.

"A hundred and three times if you count what went down at the mystery spot," Sam reminded him.

"Right," Dean nodded. "But those _don't_ count."

"Maybe not for you. I had to live through it."

"Cry me a river."

Sara listened to the banter, eyes wide, mouth open, her fork stopped halfway to her mouth. She slowly put it down. "I think I've lost my appetite," she said miserably.

"You're not going to die," Dean promised fiercely. He took a piece of bacon from her plate, and Sam looked at her sympathetically.

The door opened, and Sam frowned, standing. Sara caught a glimpse of a gun tucked into his jeans, and wondered if he'd have to use it. He relaxed, though, when Cas and Claire walked through the door.

"What're you doing back?" Dean asked. "What about the prophet?"

"He's dead," Cas said gruffly, obviously annoyed. "I called the retirement home he lived in to get some information. He was found dead in his suite last night. We turned around and came back."

"Any word on the cause of death?" Sam frowned.

"Yes," Cas sighed. "He was tortured to death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said, rubbing his eyes.

"Who would kill him?" Sam frowned. "It doesn't make sense. Crowley gave you the lead, so it wasn't him. No one else knew about this."

"Actually, someone did." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, brown pouch. Both Sam and Dean cursed.

"Rowena," Sam groaned.

"How the hell did she get close enough to plant that on you?" Dean asked, grabbing it and tossing it in the sink. He found a box of matches, struck a few, and lit the bag on fire.

"I don't know," Castiel answered, looking more annoyed by the second. "But when we find her, I say we turn her over to Crowley."

"Agreed," Dean said, standing.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to head into town and see if we can find these winged assholes creeping on her," he said, pointing at Sara. "I gotta get my mind off of the Wicked Bitch of the West."

"Yeah, good idea," Sam agreed, standing. "I'll go with you."

"Cas, you good here?" Dean asked.

"I'll stay with the girls," Castiel nodded.

"We don't need a babysitter," Claire said, annoyed. "I was going to head to the Salvage Yard."

"The Salvage Yard?" Dean frowned. "Bobby's?"

"I told Claire she could work on some of the cars there," Cas replied. "I hope that was okay."

"It's great," Sam told him when Dean didn't say anything. "But you guys should stay here for a while. At least until Jody gets back."

"Fine," Claire sighed.

"I've got some lore books out in the car if you want them," Sam said.

Claire groaned.

"Part of being a hunter is being educated," he reminded her.

"Fine," she sighed again.

Sara and Claire spent the next few hours siting on the floor in the living room, books spread out all around them, as well as snacks. Cas sat on the sofa, looking through the journals Bobby had left behind.

"I can't use the flashdrive," he told Claire. "It's password protected. Can you get into it?"

"I can't," she said, taking the small drive. "But Alex probably can. She's pretty good with all that computer stuff."

When Alex got home, she sat with them as well, and began trying to break into the drive. She spent several hours trying different passwords and codes, and frowning.

Sara, meanwhile, learned a lot about the supernatural world. Demons left sulfur deposits, and their eyes were usually black, but sometimes they were red or white or even yellow, according to Sam's notes in the book. Angels didn't have a lot of lore, but Sam wrote some things. They had to have permission to enter their vessels, and they had all sorts of symbols that could be used to summon or banish them.

Eventually, she sighed, shutting the book.

"You okay?" Alex asked.

"Fine," she said, rubbing her temples. "My head just hurts."

"Hit the showers," Claire said, taking a drink of root beer. "A hot bath should help."

"Thanks, mom," Sara grinned, and Claire threw a pillow at her. Sara caught it and tossed it to Alex, who tossed it back to Claire, who turned around and hit Castiel with it. He acted offended, and Claire and Alex laughed.

Sara headed for the bathroom, and turned the bath water on as hot as she could stand it. She stripped, tossing her clothes into the hamper, and examined herself in the mirror. The wound in her side was healing nicely, but still a bit sore. Her bruises had turned an ugly yellow color, but she was alive, and that's all that mattered.

She leaned down, washing her face in cool water as her headache worsened. She patted off with a towel, stood up straight, and gasped when she saw her reflection.

Her eyes were completely black, her brown irises gone. She backed up against the wall, her reflection looking as frightened as she herself felt. Her heart beat faster and faster, blood roaring in her ears. There was a popping sound, and the light bulbs shattered, the room going dark.

She slid down the wall, hiding her face in her hands for several long, agonizing minutes. Eventually, she stood, and using the fading light coming from the window, examined her face.

It was tear stained, but her eyes were back to normal. Her headache was subsiding, but she didn't feel relieved. All she could do was stare at her reflection and wonder what was happening to her.


	7. Chapter 7

Jody dipped a fry into her ketchup and popped it into her mouth, and took a drink of her tea. "We haven't seen them around town, but I get the feeling they're here," she was saying. "People around here just don't notice. They're used to crazy."

She sat across from Sam and Dean in the town diner while breaking for lunch that day. Dean was wolfing down a cheeseburger, and Sam was picking at his uneaten salad.

"That fact that she can move things with her mind, though," Jody continued. "Well, that explains a lot. Obviously she's different, and important to the angels."

"We didn't mention this to her, because we didn't want to scare her," Sam began. "But Cas is pretty sure they only meant to hurt her. They wanted her alive."

"Alive?" Jody frowned, a worried expression clouding her face. "What for?"

"We don't know," Sam admitted. "We need to draw the angels out and find out what they want with her."

"You're not using her as bait," Jody warned, eyes narrowed. "That poor girl has gone through enough this past week."

"I know, and that's why we're trying something different," Sam told her.

"The angels want Cas dead," Dean said as he finished his food. "So we're going to make sure he's seen around town enough to draw the angels out. We'll get him away from the public place, and when the angels try and make their move, we'll jump 'em."

"Will that work?" Jody frowned.

"Dunno," Sam admitted. "I guess we'll find out."

Dean's cell phone rang, and he looked at the number – Crowley was calling him back. He excused himself, heading outside.

"Your prophet is dead," he said into the phone.

"Yes, I've heard," Crowley said in annoyance. "My dear mother, as it seems."

"What would Rowena want with a prophet?" Dean frowned.

"Nothing, apparently, or he'd still be alive. He must have known something, though." Crowley paused. "You did check and make sure you're not tagged with one of her little presents?"

"Yeah, we did a whole sweep of everything," Dean said, leaning against the building. "You?"

"My minions are currently searching the entire place for them. If you find one, don't destroy it. I may be able to track her with it."

"Fine," Dean said.

"Castiel mentioned something interesting," Crowley said nonchalantly. "That daughter of his is a spitfire. She's like a mini Dean Winchester."

"Spit it out, Crowley," Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"That girl, Sara. The one being tracked by angels. Is there anything strange about her?"

"What're you getting at?"

"She must be either very powerful or very important to someone if the angels are taking a break from trying to nuke the Darkness," the demon continued. "I'd simply like to know if there's anything I should be worried about."

"Yeah, there is. You should be worried about yourself. You keep to hell, and we'll handle the angels. Got that?" Dean snapped.

"Of course," Crowley said after a moment. "Contact me if you find a hex bag." He hung up, and Dean took a deep breath, wondering if maybe he should see a doctor about his blood pressure.

He went back inside, and Sam raised his eyebrows. Dean shook his head.

"Let's catch us some angels," he said.

* * *

Castiel knew he was being followed.

That was the point, after all, he reminded himself as he parked his car and headed for the abandoned barn on the outskirts of town. He entered the barn, walking in slowly and turned when he heard the sound of wings.

"Castiel."

Cas took a deep breath, looking at the two men standing in front of him – of course, they weren't men.

"Netzach," he acknowledged the one on the left. "Puriel. It's good to see you, brothers."

"We're not your brothers," Puriel spat.

"Castiel," Netzach said, looking sad. Cas had always liked him; at one time they had served in the garrison together. While not close, they were family. "You know what we have to do here."

"Yes," Castiel said.

"I'm sorry," Netzach said, sliding an angel blade from his shirt sleeve.

Cas sighed. "So am I."

"What?" Puriel demanded.

There was the sound of a lighter flicking open, and then Puriel and Netzach were suddenly in a flaming ring of Holy Fire.

"Winchesters!" Puriel spat on the ground.

"Honestly, it's like they don't even know us," Dean remarked as he and Sam emerged from their hiding places.

"Shouldn't you be out with your friend Amara?" Netzach asked coolly.

"Shouldn't you be trying to stop her?" Dean retorted.

"What do you two diseases want?" Puriel demanded angrily.

"Right to the point, then," Sam said, crossing his arms. "What do you want with Sara?"

"It's none of your concern," Netzach said.

"Really?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "Because the fact that one of you put a blade through her _makes it_ my business. Do angels really have nothing better to do than chase around teenage girls?"

"She is not just a teenage girl," Netzach told him impatiently. "Castiel, you know the rules. We're not allowed to let any Cambion roam the Earth while Lucifer still lives."

"Cambion?" Castiel looked shocked, and frowned.

Netzach looked confused. "You didn't sense it? What's _happened_ to you, Castiel?"

"Wait, what's a Cambion?" Dean frowned.

"Typical uneducated Winchesters," Puriel snorted. "A Cambion is only the most abdominal thing to walk the earth."

"That's funny, I thought Sam and I were the most abdominal things to walk the earth," Dean retorted.

"Close second," Puriel sneered.

"A Cambion is half demon, half human," Sam said, frowning. "Sara is half demon."

"What, like that kid from a few years ago?" Dean asked.

"Jesse Turner," Netzach agreed. "Castiel allowed him to get away. We eventually tracked him down, and put him down."

"You killed an innocent kid because of who his parents were?" Dean demanded.

"Lucifer has the ability to manipulate and twist any Cambion from anywhere," Netzach reasoned. " _Including_ the Cage. With that sort of power, he'd be able to break free, or worse. Any Cambion has been sentenced to death. With the exception of this one."

"Why?" Castiel demanded. "What's different about Sara?"

"You seriously don't know?" Puriel demanded. "Who her father is? How much power she has pulsing through her filthy body?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded.

Just as Puriel began to elaborate, there was a whooshing noise. Puriel stumbled forward, light pouring from his body as an angel blade protruded from his chest.

Dean and Sam turned, ready to fight, only to find themselves being thrown backwards as three demons entered the barn. Netzach screamed as a blade was shoved through his throat at the hands of a demon.

Castiel stood to fight, but instead of killing him, they only threw a punch. Cas scrambled to fight back, and Dean and Sam tried to scramble up.

"Why'd you kill the wings?" Dean demanded, elbowing one in the face and holding the demon killing knife against his chest as Castiel slayed the other two. Sam trained his gun on the remaining demon.

"Those were our orders," the demon hissed.

"Yeah? Why not kill us, too?" Sam demanded.

Instead of answering, the demon tipped his head back, escaping in a cloud of smoke.

"Son of a bitch," Dean sighed, looking around at the massacre in the barn.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sam said, lifting the half-conscious man the demon had emerged from.

"Yeah, then back to Jody's. Fast," Dean said.

"Why?" Cas asked.

"They said Sara's powerful," Dean said. "Like, superpowers powerful. Who do we know that likes to collect people like that?"

Sam's eyes widened. " _Dammit_. Crowley."

* * *

"You okay?"

Sara jumped, startled at Claire's voice. She had been sitting on the couch, lost in thought, and hadn't even heard her foster sister enter the room. She sat up straight, clearing her throat.

"Um, yeah. Fine," she lied. "I just don't feel so great."

"Still got a headache?" Claire asked, plopping down on the sofa next to her, munching on some popcorn.

"Yeah," Sara nodded, swallowing.

"Maybe you need something a little stronger than hot tea," Claire whispered, nodding at Sara's untouched cup, and she laughed.

"Girls, did one of you feed the animals today?" Jody called as she entered the living room.

"I did," Alex said as she came down the stairs.

"They're acting crazy," Jody said, shaking her head. "The dogs won't stop barking and the cat is hiding on top of the fridge. I can't get him down."

"I'll get him," Alex said. Before she could move, though, the front door slammed open, and Jody backed up, eyes wide.

"Get behind me," she commanded the girls. "Now, girls!"

"Jody." Crowley smirked. "Always a pleasure." He raised an eyebrow and leaned down, pulling up the rug in front of the door to reveal a devil's trap. "Well, that's just impolite."

"Stay away from us," Jody snapped, eyes widening as Crowley took a small blade from his pocket. Instead of attacking anyone, though, he only scraped a bit of the paint on the trap away.

"That's better," he said, stepping over the threshold into the house.

"What do you want?" Jody demanded. "Sam and Dean are going to be back any minute."

" _Please_. I'm not here to hurt anyone," he said reasonably. His eyes went to Sara and he smirked. "Well, well. Aren't you a pretty thing?"

"Crowley, _what do you want?"_ Jody demanded again.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said, looking back to Sara. "I figured it was about time I met my daughter."


	8. Chapter 8

Sara hadn't noticed before how loud the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room was until she sat there in complete silence, unsure what to say. She had asked Jody and the girls for some privacy, but now she wished she'd asked them to stay, even though she was positive Jody was right on the other side of the kitchen door with the rifle she kept hidden in the pantry.

Crowley was a patient man, she observed. He wasn't bothered by the fact that she hadn't say a word in fifteen minutes. He just sat there in the arm chair across the coffee table, looking at her. Sara didn't look at him directly, but could feel his eyes on her.

"You look quite like your mother," Crowley finally said.

Sara forced herself to look at him, and noticed right away they had the exact same colored eyes. She swallowed. "She said I looked like my grandmother."

"No, fortunately you don't look anything like that whore," Crowley said. "Well, a bit. The hair, perhaps. But the rest of you is Regina. Except for my eyes, of course."

"Why did you leave?" Sara was surprised at the first question out of her mouth.

Crowley looked as though he'd been expecting this question. "Do you really need to ask?"

"Yes."

He leaned back, lacing his fingers together. "What have they told you about me?"

"Not much," she admitted. "That you're a demon. And the King of Hell. And that you tried to kill Jody. And Dean. And Sam. And Castiel . . ."

"So nothing good, then?"

"No."

"Well, then they're probably right." His eyes moved over her, examining her for a moment. "I'm going to be very blunt with you. When I met your mother I had no intentions of staying with her. It was a fling and she ended up pregnant, which I thought I could use to my advantage – a half demon, half child is a very powerful thing. I never meant to get attached to Regina. It's a dangerous thing for someone in my . . . particular line of work to do, getting attached to a human. Then after she had you, I decided to let things lie until you were old enough. But your mother died and I couldn't take you. So I left you there."

"My life was horrible," Sara replied. "Orphanages and foster homes. One time I thought a couple was going to adopt me. They chose a baby instead. It was awful."

"I imagine so."

"Are you sorry?"

"No."

"Why?"

His eyes danced with something odd – pride, perhaps. "Because it made you strong."

Sara looked away, crossing her arms.

"How long have you known that you're different?" Crowley asked.

"A few months," she said quietly. "I knew regular people didn't have nightmares as detailed as mine. Things are getting worse. I broke a lamp the other night. With my mind. And yesterday . . ." she shook her head. "My eyes turned black."

"Your powers are developing," Crowley nodded. "I figured that would be happening around this time. I even sent my men to keep an eye on you, but you were too smart for that. But I want to know about anything . . . else."

Sara frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, leaning forward a bit. "Have you had any odd visions? Heard voices?"

She shook her head. "No. Well, I mean, there's the headaches, but I supposed that just came from the stress."

"Headaches?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," she said, tucking some hair behind her ear. "They're really sharp. Right behind my eyes. There's like this high pitched ringing noise, and then they go away."

"I see." He was frowning, and his brow furrowed the exact way Sara's did.

"Am I . . . will I turn into a demon?" she asked.

"No," he replied, standing, and she stood as well. "You're as much human as you are demon. You'll keep your humanity, darling. Don't fret over that. If these . . . _headaches_ continue, I want you to call me."

"You're not taking me with you?" Sara was surprised.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I didn't come here to _kidnap_ you, Sara. I came here to see you. I'll stop and check in when I can. Jody, love," he called, and Jody emerged from the kitchen, looking suspicious. Crowley reached into his coat pocket, and Jody tensed, but frowned when he pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. She took it.

"What's this?" she asked, opening it. Her eyes widened. "This – this is ten thousand dollars."

"Yes," Crowley said. "I suppose that will be enough for now. I'll send more next month. I've also taken the liberty of securing her citizenship and her records are in the mail for you. You're her official guardian now." He looked at Sara. "As for you, I don't want you leaving this house alone. And you should carry a weapon on you. I took care of those angels who were following you, but more might come, and you should all be prepared."

"You're just going to leave again?" Sara demanded. "You show up after seventeen years, and you're just going to leave again? Demon or not, you're still my father. I . . . it's not fair. I don't even know you. I don't even know if I want to know you. But, if I'm this half demon thing like you say, I should at least be able to defend myself, and it's your responsibility to teach me. Besides . . ." she hesitated. "I want to hear more about mum."

Crowley raised his eyebrows at her little outburst, and looked at Jody, who didn't look at all pleased but gave him a little half shrug and a look like "What can I do?"

"Okay, then," he said, turning to Sara. "Thursday evening. I'll be back then and I'll show you how to use your powers."

"Good," she said.

He looked at for a long moment, lifting her chin gently and examining her. Sara was surprised she didn't feel the need or want to flinch.

"Sara," he said. "I picked that name." He disappeared, and Sara blinked rapidly.

"Honey?" Jody asked softly as Sara walked towards the other side of the living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Sara?"

Sara swallowed her tears, but couldn't hold it anymore. "Jody," she said, her voice breaking. "Am I a monster?"

Jody gathered her into her arms, pulling her to sit on the couch. Sara buried her head in Jody's shoulder and cried, and Jody rubbed her back and held her tightly.

"You're not a monster," Jody promised her. "You're my daughter."

* * *

Dean stopped the Impala in front of the farmhouse, bolting from the front seat, gun in hand. Sam was right behind him, and Castiel was parking behind them.

"C'mon, c'mon," Dean muttered, hoping it wasn't too late.

He felt an overwhelming sense of relief as he entered the living room. Sara was curled up against Jody, sleeping soundly. Jody had her arms around her, and was staring into the distance, like something was bothering her. She looked up when she saw Dean, pressed a finger to her lip, and gently untangled herself from Sara. She put a pillow under her head and pulled a blanket over her, before gesturing for the boys to follow her to the kitchen.

"Where are the girls?" Sam asked, shoving his pistol into his pants at the small of his back.

"Upstairs," Jody sighed, grabbing a few beers from the fridge and handing them out. "Sara just fell asleep. She's had a bit of a rough night."

"What happened?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Crowley came by," Jody said heavily, sitting down. "Guys, Crowley is her _father_."

"What?" Sam and Dean exclaimed.

"You're telling me," she said, taking a long drink.

"It would make sense," Castiel said slowly. "Puriel said she was more powerful than most. Crowley was already King of the Crossroads when Sara was conceived. That's a rather extensive amount of power anyway. The angels would want her alive because they would have a bargaining chip over the King of Hell."

"So, if Crowley came for her," Sam frowned. "Why is she still here?"

"He left her here," Jody said. "Gave me guardianship and ten thousand dollars. I guess he figures she'll be safe here."

"Well, he's not wrong," Dean said, and Jody smiled.

"So what do we do about Lucifer?" Sam asked.

"Whoa, wait," Jody narrowed her eyes, voice sharp. "What _about_ Lucifer?"

"Cambions are very powerful creatures," Castiel said. "There have only ever been about six in the last four hundred years. Most didn't live past their teens – they were struck down by angels. If Lucifer was ever able to manipulate one, he could have them open the Cage – or worse."

"What do we do?" Jody asked, eyes wide.

"I can mark her," Castiel said. "Hide her from angels. But that is only a temporary solution. Lucifer will have felt the emergence of a Cambion, and he has nothing to do in the Cage but search. Eventually, he will find her."

"Crowley said something about teaching her to protect herself," Jody mentioned. "He's coming back Thursday."

"Alright," Sam sighed. "We'll give him a call and get a heads up. Until then, he'll have his men stationed all over town. Guaranteed."

"Great," Jody said. "As if I didn't have enough problems, now my town is infested with demons."

"Not necessarily a bad thing this one time," Dean said reluctantly. "If he's serious about keeping her safe, he's not going to slack. And that means protection for you and the girls, too."

"Okay," Jody said. "So all I have to do is watch the King of Hell's daughter, keep Satan away, make sure Alex doesn't relapse, and try and get Claire out of the principal's office. Sounds easy."

"I do not envy you," Cas admitted.


	9. Chapter 9

Sara shoved some hair out of her face and attempted to concentrate on the calculus book in front of her, but she may as well have been reading a foreign language. She groaned, her head collapsing onto her folded arms.

"You're telling me," Alex groaned from across the table. She was chewing on the end of her pencil. A half empty Red Bull sat beside her on one side, her not even half finished homework on the other side.

"Maths is my worst subject," Sara mumbled.

"Um, hello?" Claire called. She was sitting on the counter, eating a sandwich, an open History book in her lap. "At least you guys don't have a gigantic test tomorrow."

"It's not fair for them to give Sara this much homework," Alex complained. "It was her first day!"

The phone rang, and Sara was closest, so she reached over and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo," Jody said. "How was your first day?"

Sara groaned again.

"That good, huh?" Jody asked sympathetically.

"Do you know calculus?"

"Not even a little," her foster mother continued. "Did you try using the internet?"

"Yeah, to make ourselves disappear!" Alex called, and the girls laughed.

"You'll get the hang of it," Jody assured her. "If you need help, though, you could always Skype Mrs. Tran. She's the smartest person I know."

"Good idea, maybe we'll try that," Sara said.

"Well, I wish you good luck. I just wanted to call and let you girls know I'll be working late tonight. There's some cash in an envelope on top the fridge – why don't you girls order some pizza?"

"Sure. Want us to wait up for you?"

"Nah, you girls go ahead and eat, I'll grab something when I get home." She paused. "And Alex better not be drinking that Red Bull stuff again."

Sara slid her eyes to the now empty can, and to where Alex was opening another. "Nope."

"Alright. I should be home by ten or eleven. I'll see you all tonight."

"Sure thing, Jody. See you then." Sara hung up.

"Pizza?" Claire asked, and Sara nodded. Claire picked up the phone and dialed the number to order.

They took a break long enough to try and call Mrs. Tran, who didn't pick up. They left a message, and called Sam, who also didn't pick up.

"We're doomed," Alex acknowledged. "Tell Harrison Ford I loved him."

"Is Jimmy Carter the one who was screwing the blonde chick?" Claire asked.

"That was John Kennedy," Sara said. "This isn't even my country and I knew that."

"Seriously, Claire, your history knowledge is pathetic," Alex agreed.

"Forget it," Claire said, closing her book and jumping off the counter to open the door for the pizza delivery guy. "I'm transferring to Hogwarts."

They ate their pizza on the porch, watching the sun start to set. Alex's cat was curled at her feet, and an ancient stray bloodhound that Jody found lay under the porch steps, panting.

"Do you think Jody would be mad if I got a puppy?" Claire asked.

"Claire, you couldn't even take care of a goldfish," Alex reminded her.

"That's different. A puppy would actually bark when it's hungry."

Sara couldn't help but laugh, choking on her drink and coughing as Alex hit her back a few times, Claire rolling with laughter.

"Having fun, ladies?"

Sara coughed a few times, startled – she hadn't heard her father approach. She held up a finger, and took a drink, clearing her throat. Claire laughed and kicked her feet up, while Alex looked uncomfortable.

"Um, hi," Sara said, clearing her throat again as she sat up.

Crowley lifted the pizza box lid, examining the contents, smothered with cheese and every topping known to man. "Dinner for champions," he acknowledged.

"We're seventeen," Claire said. "What'd you expect? Filet mignon and caviar?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you absolutely positive your Castiel's?" he asked. "Not Dean's?" He turned to Sara. "I presume you're ready for our exercises?"

"Right, demon training," she groaned. "I completely forgot. I've been hung up on other things."

"Other things?" he frowned.

"Calculus," Claire elaborated.

"Calculus," he repeated slowly, as though having trouble accepting the fact this his all-powerful half demon daughter was struggling with her maths.

Sara turned bright red. "They don't kid around with their homework here in the states. Is it okay if we reschedule the whole demon training? Sir?" she added as an afterthought. Best show some respect.

He stared at her for a long moment, and sighed. "Well, show it to me."

She frowned. "What?"

"The _calculus_. Show it to me."

Sara was shocked, but wasn't going to turn down help. The girls stood, leading the King of Hell into their living room, and headed for the kitchen. They sat around the table, and Crowley looked over the homework, frowning and glancing at the book.

"This is wrong," he began, pointing at the first problem. "You're using the wrong formula. You need to be using the area of a parabolic segment . . ."

The girls listened intently, scratching and erasing where they were wrong and correcting their mistakes. Sara was trying to keep up, but couldn't decide what was more bogus – the fact that her evil, villainous demon father from the literal depths of hell was helping her and her foster sisters with their calculus homework, or the fact that he was actually being patient about it. The hate Sara held for him in her heart ebbed a little as he took her pencil, erasing the problem on her paper and helping her correct it. Was she wrong? Did he actually have potential somewhere in his twisted soul?

She reminded herself how long she was alone, and swallowed the pain, concentrating on her homework.

At one point, Alex's phone rang, and she jumped up, turning bright red.

"I'll, uh, I'll be just a minute," she said quickly, practically running from the room.

"Boys," Claire shrugged, kicking her feet up on the table. "Say, Mephisto," she said, looking at Crowley. "How are you at History?"

* * *

Jody Mills was exhausted. Four extra hours of chasing petty crooks and running around DA offices was enough to exhaust someone, of course. She was expecting to come home, grab a piece of cold pizza, find the girls watching some crappy movie or tweeting or whatever the hell kids did, and then she was going to bed.

She wasn't expecting to find the demon King of Hell in her kitchen tutoring her kids.

They must have finished their calculus, because they had their history books open and were jotting down notes as Crowley described in extreme, gory detail exactly what Mesopotamian sacrifices entailed.

"What's going on here?" Jody frowned, standing in the doorway.

The girls and the demon looked up, almost guiltily, as though they'd been caught doing something naughty.

Jody looked at her watch. "Girls, it's eleven thirty. Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed?"

"Sorry, Jody," Alex said guiltily. "We were getting help with our homework."

Jody was beyond shocked. She looked at Crowley, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "You helped them with homework?"

"Hey, don't be mad," Claire said, standing and gathering her books. "Thanks to Johnny Blaze here, I'm going to pass tomorrow's history test. Night." She headed for her room. Alex stood, looking apologetic, and gave Jody and small shrug before following Claire.

Sara started the gather her stuff as well. "Um, thanks," she said to her father after an awkward moment of silence. She hurried out of the room, and Jody looked at Crowley, who looked touched and confused all at once.

"Did you see that?" he asked as Jody headed for the fridge with beer on her mind.

"See what?" she sighed, grabbing two and setting one in front of the demon. If anything she was a decent host.

"For a moment, she didn't look like she completely resented me." He popped the top off his beer. "I call that progress."

Jody sighed. If there was one thing she prided herself in, it was her mom speeches. And here she was, getting ready to give one to Crowley.

"Crowley, listen," she began. "Sara may be powerful or half demon, or whatever. It's not important. What _is_ important is that she is also your daughter. She's been without a father for a very long time. She's going to start out with harsh feelings toward you. You're getting one chance at this. What I'm trying to say is, before treating her like a protegee, treat her like a _daughter_. Get to know her. Find out what she likes, what she doesn't like. What makes her _happy_. And never, ever just disappear from her life again. She may be willing to forgive you a first time, but she definitely won't be willing to get her heart broken a second time."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You do realize who you're talking to, yes?" he gestured at himself. "King of Hell? Demon? Worst of the worst?"

"What you do outside your life with Sara isn't a concern, as long as you don't put her in danger," Jody said sharply. "Look, the boys told me what went down a few years ago. Human blood junkie, right? They also told me," she continued, rolling her beer bottle behind her hands as he glowered at her. "That you've been a bit more _lenient_ in your feelings since then. Dean told me how you treated that girl, Amara. Like a kid. Or whatever. The Crowley I know – you know, the one that tried to kill me? Ring a bell? – _that_ Crowley wouldn't be attempting to make a connection with Sara. That Crowley would have abducted her and done whatever he wanted to use her power. The fact that you're trying so hard here leads me to believe maybe you're not as big of a mega douche as everyone thinks you are." She shrugged and took another sip of beer, waiting for Crowley's reaction.

He slid his hand a bit closer. "You know," he began slyly with a smirk. "Our first date may not have gone that well . . ."

Jody smiled sweetly. "Keep dreaming." She stood. "I'm going to bed. Get the hell outta my house."


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, guys. This will be catching up with the current episodes soon. But since there's a hiatus until the 23rd of March for the show, who knows where this fic will go? In story news, though, Claire is about to get a potential romantic interest who is linked to Sara, we'll meet Alex's mystery guy in a few chapters, and Sara is going to hear exactly how she came to be. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

* * *

Usually when Castiel was on the ground, covered in mud and dirt, it was because he had been in a fight or thrown by something evil.

But now, as he lay under the Chevelle with a wrench in one hand and a rag in the other, listening to Claire's instructions, he smiled. After tightening the thingy – he wasn't sure what it was called – he rolled out from under the car.

"Was that right?" he asked, rubbing his hands on the rag.

"We'll find out," Claire said as she finished up under the hood and slammed it shut. She got into the drivers seat and plugged the key into the ignition – it spluttered and tried to wake a few times, but finally the engine turned over with a roaring sound, puttering.

"Awesome!" Claire whooped, pulling the key out. She got out of the car, brushing her hands together. "It'll still be a while before she's road ready, but we've got her working!"

They headed to where Claire had parked the truck, and she opened a cooler on the back. She handed him a root beer, and Cas took it – he probably wouldn't drink it, but it gave him something to do with his hands.

They sat on the tailgate, Claire sipping her drink and Castiel looking over the scrapyard that had practically been a home to him for so long.

"Oh, hey," she said, reaching for her backpack beside the cooler. "Check this out."

She pulled out a few pieces of paper, folded hastily, and handed it to him. He frowned, unfolding it and reading the title.

" _Religious Folklore: Truth versus Fiction."_ _A research paper by Claire Novak._

On the top of the paper in large, red letters was a number: 96%, and the words EXCELLENT!

"You wrote this?" he asked, flipping the page.

"Uh-huh," she said with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant. "It's not a big deal or anything, I just thought you'd like it." Her face and tone were carefree, but underneath there was a definite tone of pride, and Castiel struggled to hide a grin.

He read through the paper, raising his eyebrows and smiling at some parts. He read through the rest of the four pages, nodding. Under the last paragraph, written in the same red pen, were a few sentences:

 _Claire – this paper was brilliant! I'm very proud of you and the work you put into this! You must have done a lot of research for this. However, perhaps in future works you should not refer to angels as "usually major asshats" and perhaps not call God a "deadbeat." Besides for this, great work! I knew you had it in you, keep it up! – Mrs. H._

"Claire, your teacher is right," Cas said seriously. "This is brilliant!"

She shrugged again, but looked quite pleased. "I just thought I should show it to you since you're the one whose been telling me all about this stuff the past few weeks."

"It's extremely accurate," Castiel said. He hesitated. "Can I keep this?"

She looked surprised, but also touched. "Sure. I have copies. You'll have to fight Jody for it, though – she almost cried and then took us all out for dinner and ice cream when she saw it."

"I'll keep it safe," he vowed, tucking it into his coat pocket.

"It's just a paper, Castiel," she laughed.

"It's a paper that you wrote," he corrected. "And got an excellent grade on. It's important."

She looked so touched, and had to turn away to blink a few times, swallowing the knot in her throat.

"I wish my parents could see it," she said quietly.

Castiel felt a pang of guilt and sadness. He took a breath, and they were silent for a few moments.

"If I'm ever welcomed back into heaven," he began, and Claire looked at him. "I'm going to take this to Jimmy and Amelia Novak and show it to them."

Claire blinked a few more times, before throwing her arms around him. Castiel was surprised, but pleasantly so, and hugged back.

She sniffed, wiping the wetness from her eyes as she pulled away. "Nice going, you big dork," she teased, punching his arm. "You made me cry. Now you owe me ice cream."

Castiel smiled, standing, and they got in the truck.

"Hey," Claire said as they rode down the road towards the ice cream parlor. "For what it's worth – I think you'd make a pretty great dad."

Castiel had never felt so touched, and smiled the rest of the evening.

* * *

Sara stared long and hard at the empty Red Bull can balanced on the fence about twenty feet away. Her brain was so concentrated on it that she was starting to feel dizzy, and her head was pounding. She was holding her breath, desperately trying to keep still.

Finally she exhaled, and her headache ebbed away a bit, her sight going back to normal. "I can't do it," she panted. "I just can't."

"You only need practice," her father said patiently. "It takes time."

"I've been staring at that stupid can for forty five minutes!" she argued, her brown furrowing in annoyance as she waved her hand dismissively at it. "If I were able to move it, I would have done so already! Why am I trying to know trash off a fence anyway? Shouldn't you be teaching me how to defend myself?"

"Not until you learn some basic control," Crowley replied, taking her shoulders and turning her towards the can. He stood behind her, and squeezed her shoulders encouragingly. "Try again. I'll help you. Just focus your energy towards it. Don't _ask_ it to fall over, darling. _Tell_ it to. You're in command here."

Sara took a deep breath and nodded, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. This time she put all of her thought and want into knocking the bloody thing off the fence. _Inhale. Exhale. Relax but don't let your guard fall as you concentrate. Fall over. Fall over. Fall. Over._

The can wiggled, and slid off the fence.

"I did it!" she exclaimed, punching the air and whooping. "Did you see that? I knocked it over!"

"You did," Crowley said, amused. "Brilliant job, dear. Why don't you go get some drinks to celebrate?"

"Sure," she nodded, speeding off to the kitchen in search of some sodas.

Crowley sighed, picking the can up and glancing at it. Where'd he learn to be so damn patient? There was a time where he would have yelled and snapped and not let up until it was done. Where was _that_ Crowley?

"I saw that," Jody said as she came through the gate into the back yard, still dressed in her uniform as she had just gotten home. "Why'd you tell her that she was the one who knocked it off?"

He sighed again, laying the can on the fence. "She needed a boost of confidence. She'll get it, eventually. But she needn't stress herself out over it."

Jody raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That's very, well. _Fatherly_ of you, I suppose. I'm impressed."

"Don't say it too loud," he muttered.

Jody sat in a lawn chair, crossing her ankles. "So how does Sara feel about all this Lucifer business?"

Crowley looked away.

Jody sighed. "Crowley –"

"She doesn't need to know about any of that just yet," he replied coolly. "She's safe, and if, _if_ , Lucifer were to somehow contact her, it wouldn't be for very long and I'd have enough warning."

"Don't you think she should know?" Jody suggested gently.

"No," he said, his tone growing colder. "She's a child. The last thing she needs to worry about is the father of sin stalking her."

Jody frowned. On one hand, she could see his point. But on the other . . .

"Hey, Jody," Sara greeted her as she came back into the yard, sodas in hand. "Good day at work?"

"Same ol'," Jody smiled at her foster daughter.

Sara started to hand a soda at Crowley, who stopped her. "I'm afraid I have to be going," he said.

"Oh, okay," Sara frowned. "Well, thanks for, you know. Helping me knock cans off a fence."

He smiled a bit. "Yes. Before I go . . ." he reached into his pocket, removing a small, purple, leather bound book. He handed it to Sara, who looked down at it. _For Sara, from your Mother_ was etched into the worn cover in gold lettering.

"That was your mother's," Crowley told her. "I figured you're old enough to have it now."

"Mum," Sara breathed, running her hand over it, fingers tingling. She opened it to a random page. Pretty, cursive writing in black ink covered the pages, and her heart beat faster. She closed it, holding it to her chest.

"I'll be seeing you, then," Crowley nodded.

"Dad," Sara called as he turned.

He looked back, eyebrows raised – in all of the three weeks he'd been coming to see her, she'd never called him that.

"Thank you," she said, and he paused, and nodded before disappearing.

* * *

Alex watched out the window as Castiel waved goodbye to Claire that evening, and Crowley and Sara bid each other farewell. Her heart squeezed.

She knew she was lucky to have Jody, and Claire, and Sara – people cared about her, and she was so grateful. But at the same time, she could only think of her own family.

Hesitantly, she picked up her cell phone, staring long and hard at a number without a contact name that was saved into her phone. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the call button, but finally tapped it and held it to her ear.

It rang a few times, and she debated hanging up. Her father picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" he answered. God, he sounded just like she remember. His voice was kind and fatherly, and she found herself unable to speak.

"Hello?" he asked again.

She quickly hit 'end' and tossed her phone onto her bed and turned around, biting her nail as tears welled up in her eyes. Why would he ever want to talk to her? After all the things she'd done? Jesus, he had a family.

Her phone began ringing, and she jumped, startled. She was afraid her father was calling her back. She sighed, though, when she saw the number – it definitely wasn't her dad.

"Hi," she said.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You sound upset."

"I'm just stressing over calculus," she lied.

"Want me to help you?"

"No, that's okay. Crowley actually explained the whole chapter to me a few weeks ago."

He was quiet, and Alex swallowed. She'd upset him.

"You there?" she asked finally.

"Yeah."

"You're mad."

"I told you to stay away from him."

He sounded hurt, and Alex sighed.

"Yeah, I know," she said, sitting on her bed. "But I mean, he's Sara's Dad. It's not like he's not going to be around, y'know?"

"I'm telling you, Alex, you can't trust him. You should all stay far, far away from him. You know what he did to me. To my family. Honestly, I can't believe Sam and Dean are letting this happen. I doubt they would be if Castiel wasn't hanging around so much. Crowley is bad news."

"Yeah," she sighed again, rubbing her head. "But you know what I did to all those innocent people. How is he any worse than I am?"

"Don't you dare compare yourself to him," he said sharply. "Just . . . God, Alex, don't. Okay? Don't. You're not bad. Some bad stuff happened, yeah, okay, whatever. But you're not bad."

Alex felt like crying. She wanted to scream. _Tell that to the wives and husbands and mothers and fathers of the people who I tricked,_ she wanted to wail. _To the people who died because of me._

"You alright, Alex?"

"Yeah," she lied. "Hey, I'm pretty tired. I'm gonna hit the sack."

"Yeah, alright," he said, disappointed. "Maybe I'll see you sometime soon."

"Maybe," she said faintly before hanging up. She swallowed, wishing he wouldn't call, because every time he did she was reminded how much she cared for him, and how there was no possible way they could ever be together.


	11. Chapter 11

Sara sneezed and grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose. She coughed a few times, leaning back against the pillows and allowing herself to momentarily drown in self-pity.

There was a soft knock on her door, and Jody entered, holding a tray. "Hey, kiddo," she said. "I brought you some soup and some juice."

Sara smiled weakly. "Jody, it's just a cold," she said, sitting up. "You don't have to do all this."

Jody sighed, setting the tray on the nightstand. "I just feel so guilty that I can't get out of this meeting with the D.A. office today," she said, brushing some hair away from Sara's face. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Sure," Sara nodded. "I'll probably just nap on the couch and watch some TV or something. I'll be fine."

"Alright," Jody said reluctantly. "My meeting ends at three, I'll come straight home as soon as it's over. The girls should be home around two thirty. If you need anything, you can call me, or . . ."

"I know," Sara smiled.

Jody hesitated. "You're sure it's just a cold?" she asked. "Does your head hurt or anything?"

"Doesn't that fall into the category of a cold?" Sara joked.

Jody gave an obviously fake smile. "Sure. Alright, I'm just a phone call away."

"Bye," Sara called. She shoved her feet into some slippers, heading downstairs and flipping the TV on as she ate her soup. She brought some juice into the living room with her, and shivered, curling up in a wool blanket. She was dozing off when the door opened.

"Jody, I'm fine," she called. "Go to work."

"You don't sound fine, exactly, love," Crowley said as he entered the room.

Sara sniffed. "Sorry. I thought you were Jody returning to make sure I hadn't keeled over."

"She called me, actually," her father said, and Sara rolled her eyes.

"Jeez, it is illegal to catch a cold?" she coughed.

"Just making sure it's a cold and not something more serious," he replied, joining her and laying his hand over her forehead. "You do have a slight fever . . ."

"Yes," she said. " _Because I'm sick._ "

He frowned, looking irritated. "Am I not allowed to be concerned?"

She stared at him, blinking once. "You're a _demon_."

"You're my _daughter_." He sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Did you read the journal?"

"Yeah," Sara said, twisting her hair nervously. "It was really beautiful. They – they're letters, to me. She wrote one every time she felt sad or lonely or bored. Some of them are just silly – jokes she thought I may like one day, funny stories about some of the things I did as a baby. But some of them . . . they were really deep." She looked at her father. "She loved you. A lot. She was sure you'd come back."

"One day, I may have," was all he said, and they sat in silence and watched crappy court room shows for the next half hour or so.

"Did you love her?" Sara asked quietly.

"In a way."

"What does that mean?"

Crowley glanced at her. "When I met Regina, I'd just been put in charge of all crossroads deals. There was a lot of stress with the job. I needed something to distract me from the mind numbing boredom and the stupidity of others. Your mother was beautiful, intelligent, and different. At this time in my life, humans were . . . cattle. I didn't give a damn what happened to them, as long as they kept making deals and kept me in business. In fact, I enjoyed every second of pain I brought to anyone. Then there was Regina. I'd just made a deal with some bloke at the university in Manchester, and as I was leaving, something caught my eye."

"Mum?" Sara asked, swallowing.

Crowley nodded. "She was stunning. You're a lot like her – the same nose, and the exact laugh, that regal way you carry yourself. She was perfect. I saw her from across campus – this extravagant creature, hair so gold you couldn't look at it in direct sunshine, it shone so bright. Her eyes were the color of amber, and were always filled with mischief and joy. She was a small, graceful thing, heading back to her apartment from dance class."

"She was a dancer?" Sara asked in excitement, leaning forward, literally on the edge of her seat.

"Oh, yes. No one danced like your mother," Crowley remembered somewhat fondly. "I went to every show after that. As a matter of fact, the Northern Ballet Company wanted her, but she turned them down. She said dancing wouldn't be enjoyable for her if she did it for her career, that it was just something fun for her." He looked as though her were remembering something. "That day, when I saw her walk across campus, our eyes met. She was joyful and bright and everything that I wasn't, and I wanted her – I had to have her."

"So you asked her out?" Sara asked, entranced by the romantic tale.

"Yes. And she told me to bugger off."

Sara frowned. "What?"

"Four times, actually, before agreeing to have dinner with me," Crowley said, smirking. "She was as stubborn as she was beautiful. I sent her flowers and complimented her, and she refused."

"What changed her mind?"

"Your mother got a lot of attention," Crowley began. "From a lot of people. Men, mostly. One night, as she was leaving a late class and walking back to her apartment, she got some especially unwanted attention from three men at the same time. As it happens, I was doing most of my business at the university at this point, and I saw them."

"So you defended her?" Sara asked, tilting her head. "You fended off three men?"

"I killed them."

Sara's stomach twisted at the shock in the otherwise romantic story. Then she reminded herself that he was a demon, after all, and for some reason . . . the thought of him killing three men who may have seriously hurt her mother didn't bother her even a bit. She shuddered, disgusted with herself.

"I made myself scarce after that," Crowley continued. "But then your mother turned the tables. She found out how to summon me from one of my clients. She did her research, summoned me – and that's how for the first time, a human caught me in a Devil's Trap."

He had to take a break as Sara laughed, and her laughter turned into a coughing fit. She sobered, gasping for breath.

"I did say she was intelligent," Crowley sighed. "She demanded to know who and what I was, and when I told her, I expected her to run screaming. Instead, she crossed her arms, glared for a moment, and scraped away part of the trap with her foot. She turned away, walking away, and then stopped and said, 'Well, are you going to buy me dinner, or not?' It was that moment I decided that this was going to go far beyond the fling I had wanted. So we went out, several times. Then I began going to her shows, and then I moved her into a larger apartment where I could spend my time away from Hell. It was quite the scandal, your mother and I. A young, brilliant, beautiful young woman was with a significantly older, mysterious businessman – that looked suspicious. Most of her friends stopped speaking to her. I, of course, was desperately trying to keep her a secret from my boss, Lilith."

"I . . . I never even considered that mother knew you were a demon," Sara admitted. "I assumed . . . well, that you lied to her."

"I would have, had she not been so clever," Crowley replied. "I got attached to Regina. She wanted to get married, and I told her yes, of course, anything she wanted. Then Lilith found out."

Sara's eyes widened. "What?"

"How, I'll never know. Under normal circumstances, it would have been overlooked – demons often take human lovers. However, this was more, and to Lilith it was obvious. She and I were . . . complicated. She was a self-proclaimed Queen of Hell, and I was, for lack of a better word, her bitch. I tried to break it off with Regina for her own safety, but she refused, and surprised me with something – she was pregnant."

Crowley leaned back. "This next part is going to be hard for you, but I promised you the whole truth. I didn't care that she was pregnant. I didn't care about the baby. So what I saw here was an opportunity."

Sara felt sick, and not from the cold.

"I told Lilith that Regina was pregnant," he continued in that cold tone of his he had. "And she was beyond thrilled. A Cambion is a very powerful thing, like I told you, and she had . . . particular use for one. I promised Lilith the baby if she spared Regina. She agreed, but only if I abandoned Regina."

 _No_ , Sara thought. _No, no, this didn't happen._

"I visited Regina less and less," he continued. "To make it easier for myself to leave her after you were born. When I got the call that she was in labor, I arrived and you'd just been born. I'll be honest with you, Sara – I had every intention of stealing you and giving you to Lilith. But then I saw Regina holding you, and I stopped. Then she put you in my arms, and you looked at me. And I couldn't do it."

Sara let out a breath. He had let her stay with her mother by choice? Was this whole story an emotional roller-coaster?!

"So I hid you both," Crowley continued. "And made your mother promise not to tell you or anyone else a thing. I told Lilith that you had both died in childbirth, and thankfully I was convincing enough for her to believe me. But I could never return to either of you, just in case. After your mother died, I couldn't even stand to look at you. So I let you go into the system, provided for you on occasion, and kept my distance – until you wondered into Winchester territory, that is."

"So you hated me," Sara said slowly.

"Yes."

"But now . . ."

Crowley sighed. "I told you a few weeks ago about the addiction I went through. The affects it had on me."

"You mean feelings?"

"Yes, those. Well, I've kicked them. They're almost completely gone." He glanced at her. "Besides for the ones I have for you."

She blinked. "What changed your mind?" she asked quietly.

"You did, Sara. When I saw you, how much like your mother you are . . . and when I heard you were in trouble, I don't know what came over me. It was like there was a piece of your mother inside me. I had to protect you and I still do. You are my daughter and I care for you. For some reason."

He looked thoroughly embarrassed, and they were both quiet for a long time. Sara scooted over closer to him, and leaned against him.

"What're you doing?" he frowned, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm hugging my dad," she replied after a moment.

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because I'm starting to not hate him."

That made Crowley laugh. He lifted his arm and let her lay against his shoulder, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"You're not so awful yourself," he chuckled.


	12. Chapter 12

"Damn, that's a tear jerker."

Claire took a bite out of the doughnut she was eating as the girls left school the next month. Sara had just told her and Alex the tragic Crowley-Regina romance tale after no longer being able to keep it to herself, and Alex actually looked a little heartbroken.

"Can you even imagine?" she said, shaking her head. "To lose the one you love like that?"

"Nope," Claire said, sucking powdered sugar off her thumb. "Cause I've never been in love." She cut her eyes to Alex. "Why, have you?"

"W-what? No!" Alex said, blushing furiously. "No way! Who would I even like like that? I was just . . . I mean . . ."

"Chill, I'm kidding," Claire said, getting into the driver's seat as the girls got in the back. "I woulda seen him by now, right?"

"I think him telling me the story ruined any relationship I had with my father," Sara said, upset. "He usually calls every night, but it's been almost a whole month and he hasn't called or stopped by."

"Neither has Cas," Claire shrugged. "I'm sure they're fine. Probably just hunting and destroying souls."

They headed back to the house, frowning when they saw the Impala parked outside. They headed inside, finding Jody leaning against the counter, and talking to the boys. Both Sam and Dean were pretty banged up, covered in bruises and cuts.

"Damn, Thelma and Louise, did you go cliff diving?" Claire asked, crossing her arms.

"What happened?" Sara frowned.

Sam and Dean and Jody all exchanged looks.

"It's a long story," is all Dean would say.

"Girls, go upstairs," Jody said.

"But –"

"Come on," Sara muttered, grabbing Claire's arm and pulling her upstairs. "Something is obviously wrong. Do you think someone is hurt?"

"It better not be Cas!" Claire said, turning red.

"What if it's my dad," Sara wondered quietly. "I should call."

"Me, too," Claire said, pulling her phone out and dialing Castiel.

Sara waited and waited as the phone rang again and again, each time going to his voice mail. She felt something wrong in her chest. Her dad had never ignored a call from her in the few months they had known each other. Not once.

She looked at Claire, shaking her head, and Claire frowned. Sara went into her room, trying to call again, and Claire waited for Cas to answer his phone. Finally, he answered, and she felt relieved.

"Jeez, I thought something happened to you, Constantine," she teased.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"I dunno," Claire shrugged. She sat on the stairs. "Sam and Dean are here and they look pretty banged up, so I was surprised you weren't with them."

"Sam and Dean are there?"

"Yeah, they were here when we got home from school," she said, picking at her nails. "What went down?"

Castiel was hesitating.

"Cas?"

"We had to go into the Cage."

Claire raised her eyebrows. "Like, _the_ Cage?"

"Yes."

"Are you all okay? I mean, obviously you're alive, but – damn, Castiel. How'd you all get out? Isn't Lucifer like a bajillion times stronger than all three of you?"

"It was difficult, but we managed to escape," Castiel said, but Claire frowned. Something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You sound weird."

"I'm fine, Claire. How are you?"

"Fine," she said suspiciously. She hesitated. "Hey, listen, the Cage is in Hell, right? So you've seen Crowley lately, right?"

"I have," he said slowly. "Why do you ask that?"

"Well, because he hasn't been around and Sara's freaking out a little. I mean, he promised he wouldn't just ditch her again. I think she is super scared he will, though. So . . ."

"I'll look into it," Castiel said.

"Thanks, Cas," Claire said, relieved. "Are you coming by this week?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'll get back to you."

"Okay," she frowned. "Be careful."

He hung up, and Claire frowned. Something was off. She shrugged it off – fighting Lucifer couldn't be easy, maybe the guy was just tired.

* * *

Lucifer hung up the phone, leaning back against the throne. So, Claire Novak was alive. Good to know. He frowned, annoyed with Castiel. He wanted access to everything Cas had in that pretty little head of his – but he was just strong enough to keep something from Lucifer – Claire's location. Damn shame, too, because Lucifer was just _dying_ to find out who this Sara was.

"Bring Crowley here," he commanded a few demons.

Lucifer wasn't sure about keeping up this act for the Winchesters. For one thing, the voice was hell on his throat. Why couldn't his brother talk like a damn person? Every time Lucifer had to say "Hello, Dean" it was like nails on a chalkboard.

He smiled sweetly as Crowley was brought before him, still bloody from their last 'conversation.' Lucifer kicked his feet up on a stool and looked at the former King of Hell.

"This is a _great_ chair," Lucifer said. "Good back support, nice and cushioned. It's a masterpiece. Too bad you'll never get to sit in it again." Crowley said nothing, and Lucifer leaned forward. "So, still not talking to me? Well, that's okay. Maybe I'll just talk to _Sara_ instead."

That got Crowley's attention. His eyes were full of hatred and anger as he looked at Lucifer. "I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped.

"No?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Because I – well, Castiel – just got off the phone with Claire Novak. Name ring a bell? Apparently you've been spending a lot of time with someone named Sara."

Crowley looked away.

Lucifer smirked. "Gotcha. So," he said, leaning back again. "Who is she?"

"A pastry chef," Crowley replied. "What can I say? Macaroons are my weakness."

Lucifer smiled again, not moving from his position. "See, you're good at lying, Crowley, I'll give you that. But the sarcasm is just rude." He gestured, and blood spluttered from the demons mouth. Crowley gasped for breath as he began to drown in the sticky substance, unable to escape his vessel.

Lucifer released him and Crowley desperately swallowed air.

"Wasn't that fun?" Lucifer asked. He kicked him, knocking the demon over. "Answer me, Crowley."

"A _riot_ of fun," Crowley replied, spitting some blood on the floor.

"Alright, this is relaxing for me after a long day of fixing your ruins of a kingdom," Lucifer began. "But I have a really short attention span. So let's get a little serious here." He stood, sliding an angel blade from his sleeve, and Crowley looked at it with fear and anger.

"Here's the thing," Lucifer said. "I don't actually _need_ you. I keep you around for pure amusement. So if I need to kill you, it's not really a problem. Hell, the other demons would probably throw me a thank you party. So I want you to do something for me, and imagine this Sara girl. Got the image in your head? Good. Now, imagine her bloody. Not dead, because that's just too damn easy. Let's say . . ." he looked thoughtful, tapping his chin as he came up with a decent scenario. Finally, he pointed at the wall. "Chained up by her wrists, cut up all pretty so that she's lost just enough blood to barely be holding on. Can you see it?"

Crowley ignored him, refusing to look at Lucifer or speak.

"Alright," Lucifer nodded. "I get it. She's important. Let's take it up a notch. Sara is _screaming_ , because now she's naked and I'm letting some of the nastiest boys from downstairs have some fun before I run her through, _slowly_ , with this." He waved the angel blade, grinning widely. "And you get to watch the whole thing."

"If anyone touches her," Crowley began, so calm it was eerie, even a bit to Lucifer. "And I mean anyone . . ." he raised his voice so that the other demons would hear. "There will be more than Hell to pay. And I'm not just talking about from myself."

That was nerve-racking. Every demon in the place knew what that meant. It was no secret that the King of Hell was well associated with two very dangerous men. Lucifer saw the demons hesitating, looking at each other, and felt a small pang of fear and annoyance at the idea of losing his demons to Crowley's threats.

"You won't find her," Crowley continued, and Lucifer returned his attention to him. The demon showed not even a small amount of fear, as though something had fueled his anger, and this was the Crowley Lucifer remembered from back in the day. Someone to be reckoned with.

"You won't find her," Crowley said again. "Because she's hidden, and protected. You have numbers. I have skill. Which one do you think is going to prevail, _my king_?" he taunted the last words, and Lucifer was growing angry. "You can torture me all you like. But even I can't tell you where she is, because of the spell I put on her shielding her from this exact scenario. I literally cannot tell you where she is."

"Lotta trouble to go through for someone who doesn't matter much," Lucifer retorted. "All this for a broad, Crowley?"

Lucifer looked annoyed as a buzzing noise went off. "Alright, that's like the fourth time. Who isn't answering their phone here?"

A demon cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir," he said. "But it's his." He looked at Crowley.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, holding out his hand. "I hope it's not a Winchester," he said. "That would just be embarrassing." The demon handed him the phone, and Crowley felt a bit of panic as Lucifer's eyes flashed when he read the name on the screen.

"Well, well," he said, grinning. "Speak of the _me_." He hit "Answer" and waited.

At first there was no noise, then Sara speaking.

"Hello?" she called. "Hello? Dad? Dad, are you there?"

Lucifer looked thoroughly amused, hitting the "End" button and looked at Crowley, smiling and shaking his head.

"Oh, Crowley, you scoundrel," he winked. "This is _so_ good. A Cambion! I knew I felt the presence of one, I just didn't know . . ." he hit himself in the forehead, laughing. "This is just perfect! So," he called to the demons. "Whoever brings me Baby Crowley wins a gift card. Oh, and also doesn't get vaporized!" he added as an after thought, and immediately the demons began rushing around looking for clues.

"Lucifer," Crowley said, and Lucifer raised his eyebrows at the demon.

"Please don't hurt her," Crowley pleaded, unaware of how pathetic begging felt – he'd never had to do it before.

"Aw, Crowley," Lucifer said, sitting on his throne. "I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm gonna use her, and _then_ I'm going to hurt her." He leaned back, pressing the "call" button on his phone. He cleared his throat, and put on the voice.

"Hello, Claire," he said. "I can make it. Where would you like to meet?"


	13. Chapter 13

Claire parked at the salvage yard that evening. Sam and Dean were still all hush-hush with Jody, Alex was pacing her room, talking quietly to someone on the phone, and Sara was trying to knock cans off the fence while she tried to figure out why her Dad hung up on her.

Something was up. She could tell. Otherwise, no way would she have agreed to meet Cas out here so late. But he could be in trouble. Claire had to sneak out from her bedroom window – an act she had almost perfected – and she was pretty sure Jody didn't notice.

"Hello, Claire."

Claire jumped, startled, and turned to Castiel. "Jesus, Cas!" she snapped. "Don't do that!" she frowned, looking around. "How'd you get here? Where's your car?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Did you bring anyone with you? Do they know you're here?"

"No, they were acting all weird," Claire frowned. "A lot like you, actually. Are you going to tell me what's going on or not? Because you know I'll figure it out."

"I'm sure you would," he said, and something in his voice changed and made Claire shudder. He took a step towards her, and she stepped back.

"Cas," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Seriously. Tell me what's going on here." Her hand rested on her coat, and she could feel her angel blade on the inside, so close but so far.

"Well, Claire," he said, and all traces of Castiel were gone and in that moment Claire realized this wasn't him. "What's going on is that I can barely hear myself _think_ over Castiel screaming at me and begging me not to hurt you. He's _actually_ trying to evict me. Too bad he can't."

"You son of a bitch," Claire growled. "Get out of my dad's body!"

"Well that sounds weird," he acknowledged.

Claire snatched the angel blade from her coat, holding it firm. "Don't come any closer. Seriously."

He looked amused. "You're too cute." He glanced at the blade, and Claire gasped as it burned white hot, dropping it. A moment later she felt a strong hand around her neck, slamming her up against the truck and holding tight.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, trying to pry his fingers from her throat. "What do you want?"

He looked disappointed. "Now, you're a smart girl, Claire. I saw that paper you wrote on religion. Surely you must know who _I_ am?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she desperately struggled against him. "No!"

"Do I need to sing the _Stones_ song for you?" he asked, grinning.

"Let Castiel go!" she demanded.

"Let him go?" he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, honey. He let me in."

"No, he wouldn't do that!"

"He did. And up until now, has. Boy, you should hear him. He is _screaming_." He closed his eyes and inhaled, as though he were enjoying it. "Music."

"I left a note in my room," she lied. "They're going to come find me."

"Oh, Claire. No you didn't," he told her. "You're smart, but you're not _that_ smart. You came driving out here thinking it was Teen to the Rescue, and now you have to face your consequences. That's how growing up works, kiddo."

"Eat me," she spat.

"You really do spend too much time with Dean," he told her. "So, here's how it's going to be – tell me where the Cambion is and I won't crush your windpipe." He squeezed a little, and Claire coughed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she wheezed.

"Spare me," he rolled his eyes. "Where's Crowley's kid, Claire? I've actually had a rough day and all so I'm not in the mood."

"Go fu –"

"Shh, none of that," he said, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Now, I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. Understand? Tell me you understand, Claire."

Claire nodded, almost wanting to cry from anger – she hadn't been this scared since her mom died. Instead of panicking, she told herself to hold on, any second Sam and Dean would bust in and save the day, just like they always did . . .

He released her, but didn't step away, keeping her pinned against the truck with nowhere to go. "You would make a _fantastic_ demon," he mentioned, brushing some hair out of her face, not gently. Claire flinched, and this amused him. "Seriously," he said. "After we're done here, I might take the time to work on you personally. I could probably have your dark little heart all twisted in a matter of days. All we'd have to do is work on that pretty soul of yours." His eyes lit up like he'd forgotten something. "Speaking of – I'm going to have to touch it."

Claire didn't know how to reply to this. She wanted to say something, but for once was frozen with fear.

"I know, it's weird," he nodded. "And it sounds a little scary. But there's a spell on Sara so no one can tell me where she is, and I need the power boost to break that spell. I promise it'll only hurt a lot for a minute before you lose consciousness. Well, maybe two. Sam lasted two. The point is, it's gonna hurt. Feel free to scream."

"I have a better idea," Claire said, finding her courage, and kneed him in the groin.

It only gave her a second of an advantage – she ran for the Chevelle, plugging the key into the trunk but not getting a chance to open it when Lucifer's hand connected solidly with the side of her face. She fell roughly into the dirt and felt blood well up in her mouth. She tried to scramble away, but he yanked her up by her shirt, slamming her roughly against the Chevelle, and shoved his hand into her chest.

Claire had never felt so much pain in her life – and that was coming from a kid who had a _lot_ of unset broken bones. The most unbearable part of it was the heat – she felt sweat pour from her face not even ten seconds into it. The only other sound besides for her screams of agony was the sound of a high pitched ringing as Cas tried to take control and failed. Tears streamed down Claire's face and she begged God to just kill her and get it over with.

She gasped when Lucifer let go sooner than he should have – he was looking down at his chest, which had been pelted with bullets. Claire tried to catch her breath, wondering which Winchester had just tried to ice the devil with _regular freaking bullets,_ before looking up and finding the exact opposite of a Winchester.

He was in his mid-twenties, with curly brown hair pulled back off his face in a low ponytail. He had a slight stubble on his face, and his eyes were a familiar dark brown. He wore a black leather jacket over a V-neck red shirt, several charms around his neck. His jeans were old and ripped, but still fit him well. He wore heavy combat boots. Despite all this, Claire and Lucifer were both looking at the gun in his hand.

Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes. "Now who is _this_ guy?" he complained.

"Doesn't matter to you," the man replied in a thick Scottish accent. "Step away from her, now."

"Sorry, laddie," Lucifer said in a bad imitation of the man's accent. "No can do. Go give a speech."

Claire scrambled to open the trunk of the Chevelle, grabbing the jar of Holy Oil and spinning around.

"Hey, bitch!" she yelled.

Lucifer turned to look at her, and growled in annoyance as the jar of Holy Oil broke against his chest, drenching him. "What the hell?"

Claire reached into her pocket, grabbing her lighter. She quickly flicked up open, opened the flame, and threw it after.

Nothing was quite so sweet to her than the sounds of Lucifer screaming as he disappeared.

Claire collapsed against the Chevelle, dizzy and feeling very sick. She could almost feel her soul inside her chest, throbbing with pain.

She blacked out for a moment, and when she opened her eyes, Dreamy McHottie the Scottie was on his knees beside her, pulling her up into a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" he asked as she rubbed at her head.

"No," she said, wiping some blood off her face. "But I'll live. Thanks for that back there. I'm pretty sure you just saved me from becoming a demon."

"That didn't kill him, though, I'd guess," he said as he helped her stand.

"No way," she said, shaking her head. "That's freaking _Lucifer_." Her eyes widened. "Holy crap! Sara! I've got to save my friends, he'll be going after them!"

"I'll go with you," he said, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans.

She nodded and followed him to his truck, a huge F350, pitch black and new.

"Jeez, this thing must drive like a tank," she said, climbing into the passenger seat.

He grinned. "Or a boat."

He put the truck in drive and headed for the road. His sleeve rode up a bit, and Claire caught sight of the anti-possession symbol tattooed in black ink on the inside of his wrist.

"Are you a hunter?" she asked.

He glanced at her, then back at the road. "It's complicated."

"I know that feeling," she muttered. "I'm Claire, by the way."

He shot her another grin. "Nice to meet you, Claire. I'm Gavin."


	14. Chapter 14 (Note from the author)

Hey, everyone! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I like to keep my readers updated, so I always create a blog for my fanfiction that had things like news, Q&A's, gifsets, etc. on it. So, if you'd like the updates and have a tumblr, feel free to follow at jodyshouseforwaywardgirls . tumblr . com (Remember to take out the spaces to make this all one link for it to work).

See you soon!

-Kii


	15. Chapter 15

Lucifer was pissed.

And he didn't get pissed often. Annoyed, sure. Irritated, moody? Of course. But angry, really, _really_ angry? Not often. Cities died and countries fell when Lucifer was angry.

He looked at the slaughter of demons in front of them, bodies laying across the floor, only a few spared. They were all huddled far from him, some visibly shaking.

"Well," he said, tossing his bloody angel blade away. "That made me feel a _little_ better."

When he found that guy that interrupted him, he was going to rip his spine out through his throat. Not only did he not get a location out of that Novak girl, he'd let his guard down enough for her to attack him. _Him_.

He needed a new plan. He needed to send a message – to the angels, to the Winchesters, to whoever that new hunter was, and most importantly, to God.

He headed for the corner of the room that housed his goodies from the crypts – one such treasure was a large, sturdy chest. He unlocked it, lifting the creaking lid. Inside was an ancient book, bound in human skin and pages of flesh brittle with age. He flipped through the book, scanning the words written in blood. He smiled.

"You," he said, pointing at a random demon and crooking his finger in a "come here" motion. The demon nervously stepped forward, frightened beyond help, and Lucifer smiled kindly.

"I'm not gonna kill you," he promised. "As long as you can get do these things for me."

He handed him the book, and the demon frowned, looking scared again.

"S-sir . . . I can't read this."

Lucifer sighed and pressed a hand against the forehead of the demon. The demon blinked a few times before looking back at the book and finding he could understand the words.

"Sir?" he frowned. "Is this advisable? Taking souls from heaven could disrupt the balance of the world."

"Bring the souls," Lucifer told him. "But don't stop there. I want every rotten thing in creation out and running around. Open purgatory. Burn down the Grand Coven. I want every wicked thing riled up and gunning for the Winchesters. Good ol' Dad will have to show if his favorite pets are in danger. So, spread the word – Lucifer is back and larger than life."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Claire hopped out of the truck before it had even stopped moving.

Jody was standing on the porch, looking furious. "I told you not to leave the house!" she began as soon as Claire started towards her.

"Yeah," Claire sighed.

Jody's eyes widened as she caught sight of her face. "Oh my God, Claire!" she cried, rushing forward and examining her severely bruised neck and black eyes. She pulled her into a hug, anger momentarily forgotten. "Look at you. What happened?" Her eyes caught sight of Gavin as he got out of the truck. "Who's that?"

Sam and Dean came out onto the porch when they heard all the racket, and Claire pushed Jody off gently, storming towards Dean. She began trying to hit every inch of him that she could, and Dean let her, her smaller fists balled up, hitting him in the chest and arms over and over again.

"You – should – have – told – me!" She yelled, tears welling in her eyes as she emphasized each word with a blow.

Dean looked at her, unable to respond, because he knew she was right.

"You should have said something!" She cried, shoving him over and over. "You should have – you shoulda . . ." She collapsed against him, crying heavily, her body shaking. Dean wrapped his arms around her and let her cry, resting his chin on her head.

"I know," he said. "I know."

"It's not fair," she cried, squeezing her eyes closed and sobbing, allowing herself to fall apart for once and just be a kid. "It's not fair!"

"Shh," he told her. "We're going to fix it. I promise. Claire, I swear."

He pulled away from her, resting his hands on her shoulders and examining her. His eyes were angry, fuller of rage than Claire had ever seen, as he looked over the bruises.

"He do anything else to you?" he finally asked, her voice as scary as his eyes.

Claire swallowed, lifting her shirt a bit to reveal an angry, black and purple hand-shaped marked, swollen and bright red and tinged with a bit of blood.

Dean had to walk away.

"Come on, Claire," Sam said, taking her arm gently. "I'll help clean you up." He smiled sympathetically, lifting his shirt to reveal the same mark, only less swollen and turning brown and green and yellow a bit. "Hey, we match."

Claire sniffed and followed him into the house. "He – he was in my thoughts," she said quietly as she sat at the kitchen table. Sam sighed, getting the first aid kit from the top of the fridge and sitting in front of her.

"Yeah," Sam said, not meeting her eyes as he soaked some gauze in warm water and cleared away the blood from her eye, making her flinch.

"It was like – worms were in my head," she continued. "In each thought. Looking through everything. I don't know if he found out where we are."

"He didn't," Sam said knowingly. "He would have been here by now if he had."

"Am I gonna be okay?"

"Yes," Sam promised, finally meeting her eyes. "I mean, that'll hurt," he said, nodding at her chest. "But it'll fade in a few days. How'd you get away?"

"That, uh, that guy out there," Claire said, eyeing a bottle of Dean's whiskey on the counter. Sam gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "Gavin, is his name."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Gavin? I thought he looked familiar."

"You know him?" Claire asked, frowning.

"Not really," Sam admitted as he finished cleaning her face. He handed her an icepack from the freezer, and she held it against her eye. Sam hesitated. "Actually, he's Crowley's son."

Claire raised her eyebrows, then hissed in pain because it hurt. "He's Sara's brother?"

"I guess so," Sam nodded. "Gavin isn't from here, though, Claire. He's not supposed to be here. He's from Scotland, in the 1700s."

Claire snorted. "Yeah, right."

"A demon brought him forward in time to use as leverage over Crowley a few years ago," Sam continued. "Dean and I wanted to send him back, but Crowley refused and disappeared with Gavin. We never pursued it because it wasn't really our business." Sam glanced out the window, to where Gavin was talking to Jody. "Looks like he's well-adjusted to modern life, at least."

Claire looked around. "Where is Sara?"

Sam sighed. "She's upstairs, trying to call Crowley."

Claire hesitated. "Sam, is he dead?"

Sam didn't meet her eyes. "I don't know."

"Are you going to try and save him?"

"I don't know."

Gavin knocked, entering the room, his face stony. "Your brother is looking for you," he told Sam.

Sam nodded, standing and leaving the room. Claire made a move for the whiskey, and offered some to Gavin, who shook his head. She shrugged and took a long drink.

"So," Claire said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Sam says Crowley is your dad."

"Aye," Gavin sighed, sitting down. "But I don't really know him. At least, not now. We weren't exactly close when . . . well, when I was a kid."

"Do you know about Sara?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Who?"

"Ho, boy." Claire stood, putting the whiskey down and wincing. "Stay here. There's someone you need to meet."


	16. Chapter 16

When Claire told Sara that her brother was here, she gave her a "bugger off, I'm busy" look that she had perfected since hanging around Crowley. But Claire insisted, and Sara followed her downstairs.

The second she looked at him she knew Claire was telling the truth.

Their eyes were the exact same, but somehow their similarities didn't end there. Though they had different mothers, it was obvious they were related. They were the same height, and little things matched together – freckles, fingers, small things.

Gavin's eyes widened a bit. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sara," she said, looking him up and down. "Who are you?"

"Gavin. You – why do you look like me?"

" _You_ look like _me_."

"No way, I'm older."

"Barely! You're, what, twenty-six?"

"Technically."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Are you my sister?"

"I don't know."

"Are you Crowley's daughter?"

"Yes."

"I'm his son."

Claire watched this exchange with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall. They spoke easily to one another, similar to the way Crowley and Sara exchanged words.

"I didn't know I had a brother," Sara said after a moment. "So . . . you're half demon, too?"

"No," Gavin said. "Let's sit down. There's a lot to discuss here."

Sara had heard a lot of things in the past few months, but Gavin's took the cake. Abducted from the 1700's by an angry she-demon to use as leverage over the King of Hell? That was almost as crazy as Sara's life herself.

"So you just stayed here?" Claire frowned.

"Not exactly," Gavin admitted. "Da told me if I went back there, I'd die captaining a ship headed to America. So instead of going back, I stayed here. I moved to New York and spent a while adjusting. Then I found out more about the supernatural world and decided to investigate. I wanted to find my father, to learn more, but I couldn't find him. Ran into quite a few people and things – good and bad – and from there, I supposed I became a bit of a rogue."

"Or a hunter," Claire suggested.

"I suppose," he said begrudgingly. "I'd prefer if you didn't mention that around father, though." He looked at Sara. "But you . . . you're from here?"

"I'm from Leeds," she said.

"You know what I mean."

"I know."

"Then why are you being like that?"

"Because I'm testing you."

"Testing me for what?"

"Just testing you." She hesitated. "I only found out about . . . all this around three months ago."

"How does it make you feel?" he frowned.

"I don't know yet," Sara sighed. She frowned. "Not that I'm not happy to find out I have a long lost time traveling brother, but why are you here? And what the hell happened to Claire's face?"

Claire and Gavin looked at each other.

"I'll explain," Gavin said. "After Claire does."

"Me?!" she squeaked.

"Who was that guy who attacked you?" Gavin demanded. "I was watching you – I found Singer Salvage Yard in an old hunting journal I found, so I checked it out. I saw the two of you meeting – you talked like you know him. Like you're close."

"Claire?" Sara frowned.

Claire looked away. "His name is – was – Castiel," she began.

Sara gasped. "Castiel attacked you?!"

"No," Dean said, entering the room. He had calmed himself down a bit, but his eyes were still flashing with anger. "Not Cas. Sara, there's something we have to tell you."

Sara hesitated. "Okay."

"Castiel did something," Sam said as he joined his brother, sitting across from them. "Something . . . not great, to save us. All of us, from the Darkness."

"He let Lucifer take him as a vessel," Dean said.

Sara blinked. "Lucifer?" she demanded with a laugh. "You're joking. Lucifer . . . Satan? You're telling me Satan is not only real, but is using Castiel as a vessel?"

"I told you I was his vessel before," Sam pointed out.

"You two were naming off the amounts of times you'd died! I couldn't take you seriously!" She looked panicked. "Why would Lucifer attack Claire? What does he want?"

Sam took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed.

"You," Dean finally said. "Lucifer wants you."

"Me?" Sara blinked. "I . . . I don't understand."

"Crowley told you about how powerful you are as a Cambion," Sam began gently. "It's a bit more than that. Half demons are so rare because they're one of the most powerful beings ever created."

"I can't even knock an empty can off the fence!"

"Just because you can't control it doesn't mean you don't got it," Dean said. "Lucifer will do anything to get his hands on your kind of power. He's looking for the Hands of God – and Sam here thinks he could use you to find them."

"She can't even find her shoes in the morning," Claire snorted.

"Claire's right," Sara said. "I'm not special. I'm a kid. I don't . . ." she swallowed. "Is Lucifer in Hell?"

"We think so, yeah."

"So he has my Dad?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, hesitating.

Sara closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "What do I do?"

"Nothing," Dean said firmly. "You're all on house arrest. Now, Lucifer didn't get enough from Claire to find the exact location but that doesn't mean he won't have demons crawling all over the place. Sam and I are going to ward this whole property. You guys are not, under any circumstances, to leave. Do you understand?"

The girls looked at each other, hesitating.

"This is serious," Sam tried gently. "Claire, Dean and I will do what we can to save Cas – and Crowley, too, Sara," he added, and Dean nodded reluctantly.

"I should go with you two," Gavin said, looking at Sam and Dean. "I can help."

"We need someone here," Dean said. "If you could keep an eye on the place, Gavin . . . well, we need you for this."

"I know we don't have any right to ask you," Sam said. "But this is a pretty serious threat."

Gavin sighed. "Alright," he said reluctantly. "But if you hear anything about my – our – father . . ."

"We'll let you know," Sam promised.

"Hey, guys." Alex popped her head in the door. "I've got something."

Claire, Sam, Dean, and Sara followed her to her room while Gavin went to speak with Jody. Alex had security footage pulled up on her desktop, was running some type of language analysis on her laptop, and was speaking into a headset as she typed away on a tablet.

"Yes," she was saying. "I got the information. Yes. Thank you, officer, the FBI appreciates your help." She hung up, turning around.

"Alex, this is an amazing set up," Sam said, admiring the tech.

She smiled briefly. "Thanks. So, I remembered Crowley mentioning something about some things a few weeks ago when helping us with our history homework –"

"Crowley helped you with your homework?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Uh-huh. Anyway, I got curious so I did some research and found a few of the locations of what is said to be supernatural 'hot spots'. Well, some of them are located in cemeteries, churches, stuff like that – so some have security footage." She hit play on the security footage and they all went silent.

Two men were talking in a church – by their stance, it was confrontational. A priest was attempting to calm another man down, and Dean frowned, wondering where this was going.

Suddenly, the man's mouth unhinged, rows and rows of razor teeth suddenly visible as he ripped off the priests head – blood splashed across the security camera and that was it.

Claire shuddered.

"Levithans," Dean muttered.

"Dean, look at the date on the footage," Sam frowned and pointed. "This is from today."

Alex nodded. "That's how I found it. The FBI is trying to keep it quiet."

"They couldn't all have been hunted down," Dean suggested. "A rouge?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it's that simple," Sam said. "Great work, Alex. This will really come in handy."

"Alright, let's check it out," Dean said, sighing.


	17. Chapter 17

Alex had learned to recognize Jody's "there will be no arguments and that's final" voice. She just wasn't expecting to hear her use it on a Winchester.

"Absoultely not," Jody was saying, and all three girls and Gavin could hear her from in the living room, even though Jody had taken her call out onto the porch. The girls were bored out of their minds from being on house arrest for nearly a week, and it was taking its toll on Gavin as well – he kept casting longing look out the window at his F150, desperate to get back behind the wheel.

Now, though, they were all concentrated on Jody's phone call.

"Sam or Dean?" Claire whispered.

"Dunno," Alex whispered back.

"I swear, I will come down there and kick your seven foot ass," Jody threatened.

"Sam," Sara and Alex said in unison.

"No, you listen to me!" Jody continued. "I am not just going to – would you let me finish? You're worse than the girls, you know that? As I was saying – I am not just going to uproot my entire life here and move to Kansas. I have a job here, you know that? In case you didn't notice the police cruiser and shiny badge that has the word 'sheriff' on it?" She listened for a few minutes, sighing heavily. "I understand the girls, but I can't, Sam. I'll have to talk to them about it first but I don't think they're going to like it. But . . . have you heard anything about . . . I see. No, I'm not worried, but she is. Because that's what you do, Sam, you worry about family – you should know that better than anyone. Yeah. Alright. And no lead on that Levithan? Alright. Well. Finish cleaning up Bobby and Rufus's mess and then stop by here. We'll talk then. Okay. Be careful. You, too." She hung up, and the girls and Gavin scrambled to look busy, grabbing for phones or books or the TV remote as Jody entered.

Jody looked around the room, frowning, and sighed. "I'm not an idiot, you eavesdroppers."

"What're you talking about?" Claire feigned, flipping a page in her book.

Jody scowled. "That book is upside down, Claire."

Claire glanced at the book, hesitated, and looked back up. "You mean this isn't my Swedish textbook? Coulda fooled me."

"So what was that about?" Alex asked, fiddling with a string on her jacket.

Jody took a deep breath. "The boys want to move you girls."

"I told you," Sara told her siblings.

"You knew?" Jody frowned.

"I guessed. I'd be willing to bet my father made the arrangement with Sam and Dean about moving if anything ever happened. I'm pretty sure he doesn't trust me to not be a complete and utter moron."

"That's what dad's do, worrying about their kids being morons," Jody pointed out.

"Coulda fooled me," Gavin replied, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "When I was a lad he was always telling me I was a total moron."

"That's awful," Claire said.

"Got used to it," Gavin shrugged.

"And where exactly were the double mint twins planning on moving us?" Claire asked, frowning and crossing her arms.

"To their bunker, presumably. Lucifer can't get in and it's in a safe place, warded against – well, everything. Even humans apparently – something about cell phone scramblers, I don't know."

"Well, I'm not going," Claire said, picking up her book and pretending to read even though it was still upside down.

"I don't know," Alex hesitated. "It might not be such a bad idea. Sam and Dean have a pretty good set up – I could run tech while they're out in the field, tracking Lucifer and this Darkness stuff."

"Seriously?" Claire put her book down, rolling her eyes. "You just want to play with the grown up toys. Besides, how do you know what they have in the bunker?"

Alex flushed bright red. "I just, I mean, I just assumed . . ."

"If I turned myself over to Lucifer, would this all be over?" Sara asked nonchalantly.

Everyone stared at her, stunned. Then, everyone started talking at once.

"What, are you nuts?!" Claire exclaimed, jumping up.

"Do you have any idea what Dad would do if he found out you even _considered_ that?" Gavin snapped.

"It's not going to work like that," Alex agreed.

Sara jumped, startled, when Jody grabbed her shoulders, gripping them tightly and looking into Sara's eyes with fear and anger.

"Sara, you look me in the eyes and you promise me you won't ever even think of doing that ever again!" Jody said, giving her shoulders a little shake. "Promise me right now!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry," Sara said, frightened. She'd never seen Jody so . . . passionate. It was almost comforting.

"Letting yourself get caught would solve _literally_ nothing," Claire agreed. "Look, if it'll help get the devil outta Cas, I'll go to the Bunker."

"Me, too," Alex agreed, and Sara nodded.

"I'll be able to get back out there and hunt if the girls are safe," Gavin agreed. "This is the best option."

"But what about you, Jody?" Claire demanded, and everyone looked at her.

Jody shook her head. "I've got a job to do, kiddos. Town needs a sheriff. Besides, Lucifer doesn't even know who I am. I'll be perfectly safe." She looked at her watch and sighed. "Well, get some things together, then – Sam and Dean will be here in the morning."


	18. Chapter 18

As the Impala rumbled down the hallway, the girls quietly shoved together in the backseat, Sara reflected on the morning. After a tearful goodbye with Jody, who was planning on coming to the Bunker to check up on them once every two weeks or so, the girls had loaded some of their things into Gavin's truck and got into the Impala themselves.

The giant truck kept good pace with the Impala all the way to the Bunker, which is not what Sara was expecting. Overgrown grass, faded warding, and nuclear towers seemed a little extreme. But she'd lived in dumpsters before, so who was she to judge?

Gavin, Sam, and Dean carried their bags, allowing the girls to take in the surprise that laid below the rough exterior of the bunker.

"Alright," Dean called as he headed for the bedrooms. "Six bedrooms. Sam's is there, the one across is mine. Claire, you're in Cas's room, Alex, you're in our old buddy Kevin's, and Sara, that one belonged to our friend Charlie. One last guest room for whoever is running in and out. Showers are at the far end of the hall. Kitchen is that way, library is that way, dungeon is that way. Ground rules, stay outta my booze, don't leave without one of us, and if it looks dangerous, it probably is. Questions?"

"There's a dungeon?" Alex asked.

"There's booze?" Claire asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, each took a deep breath, and dropped the girls stuff on the table.

"Go nuts," Dean said.

Sara didn't know who Charlie was, but she gathered she must have be – or have been – quite important to the Winchesters. The room was cozy but dusty, as though someone had spent time in it occasionally but then suddenly quit. A worn, comfortable looking knit blanket covered the bed, with Lord of the Rings pillow cases and a comic book blanket at the end of the bed. A Hermione Granger bobblehead sat still on the nightstand, beside an ancient, worn copy of "The Hobbit."

Charlie had taped pictures above her dresser – she was very pretty, Sara acknowledged, and always smiling. In one picture she was in a yellow beater car wearing retro sunglasses, Dean in the passenger seat wearing an identical pair. In another picture, she was sitting at the table in the Bunker, playing with a paper fortune teller with Castiel, who was looking at it intently. Other pictures adorned the wall, some featuring Sam and Dean and Cas, some from comic cons and conventions.

Sara opened the dresser drawer and frowned upon finding three books, seemingly from a series.

 _Supernatural: Bugs by Carver Edlund_

 _Supernatural: Bad Day at Black Rock by Carver Edlund_

 _Supernatural: Heaven and Hell by Carver Edlund_

Sara was surprised to find the books were about Sam and Dean, and occasionally Castiel. Charlie had highlighted things she found funny and had scribbled notes. There was a list in the back of one, titled "Sam's Biggest Eff Ups" and another list called "Dean's Biggest Eff Ups." Sam was currently leading by two points.

Shaking her head, she put the books back and unpacked.

Claire wasn't surprised at all by Castiel's bedroom – boring bedspread on the perfectly made bed. A small TV sat on the dresser along with a list containing the Netflix and Hulu usernames and passwords. There were only two pictures in the room – one was the one Claire had found at Singer's Salvage, the one of Sam, Dean, Cas, and a few others Claire didn't recognize (though she assumed the surely man in the wheelchair must be Bobby Singer himself). The other picture, surprisingly, was a tattered photo from Claire's fourth grade picture day that her dad carried around in his wallet. It was in a small frame by the bed, and Claire felt a pang of pain in her chest.

On the back of the door, though, is what Claire teared up at. It was the ancient car calendar Jimmy Novak had kept for so long.

Alex took her time unpacking, closing the door and looking around. A Princeton University quilt laid on the bed. Stacks of notebooks were piled in the corner of the room, along with notes and papers and pictures taped to the wall above them. On the dresser was a framed picture of Kevin Tran and his mother. Alex held it up, smiling at it for a moment before putting it on the nightstand where she'd be able to see it. She neatly organized her drawer, set her laptop up at the desk, and sat on the bed, dialing a number into her cell phone.

He picked up almost immediately, as always. "Hey."

"Guess where I am," Alex grinned, leaning back on the quilt and staring up at the ceiling.

"Disney World?"

"Haha." She smiled again. "Better. I'm in your old bedroom."

"That's embarrassing. Is that Princeton quilt still in there?"

"Mm-hm. It's nice."

"Mom bought it."

Alex smiled and rolled onto her stomach. "Sorry I didn't call earlier," she said as she played with a strand of her hair. "Things have been . . . busy. I miss you, Kev."

"Hey, I get it. It's not easy being in a long distance friendship with a ghost," Kevin joked. "But I miss you, too."

Alex reflected back to the day where she'd been minding her own business in her room when suddenly a young man appeared next to her. She'd yelped and jumped up, reaching for the salt, before he explained that he was the ghost of Kevin Tran, a dead prophet whose mother happened to be visiting Jody Mills regarding something about some demon named Crowley.

It had taken some getting used to. They spent a long time talking – even though he couldn't use the phone easily, he could "possess" it in a way, projecting himself through the satellite waves so that it was as though they were having a regular phone conversation. They'd only touched each other once, when Kevin had really concentrated and had been able to touch her hand for about six seconds before fading.

Kevin had become one of Alex's closest friends, and if he were, well, alive . . .

But he wasn't, and she was.

"You and your mom should visit the bunker soon," Alex remarked as she lay back on the bed, contemplating a nap.

"Maybe. She's trying to keep busy, hoping from one place to another for conferences. I have to keep myself amused by haunting hotel guests at various Hiltons."

Alex laughed, and sat up when there was a knock on the door.

"Someone's here," she said. "I'll call you back later."

"Alright. See you, Alex."

Alex hung up and called "Come in!"

Claire poked her head in. "Sorry, sounded like you were on the phone with someone. Pizza?"

Alex nodded, jumping up and following her foster sister. Sam and Dean were already sat at the table, paper plates being passed out. Sara asked Dean something about bugs and he face palmed so hard that Claire snorted laughing. They listened intently as Gavin descried training to be a ship's captain by working on a whaling boat. It would have been a normal, fun evening between a regular family, except for that two were monster hunters, one was from the seventeen hundreds, one was raised by vampires, one had a sort of angel dad, and one was half demon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Alright everyone, I'm all moved in to my new place and ready to jump back on the fanfic train! Here we go again!**

* * *

Sam grabbed his dufflebag from the table, looking at the gaggle of teenagers sitting at the table in the Bunker. He sighed.

"Alright," he said. "We should only be gone a day or two – just a werewolf case, usually open and close." He hesitated. "You guys will be okay, right?"

"Oh ye of little faith," Sara muttered, and Sam couldn't help but notice how Charlie-like she was at the moment, eyes glued to some lore on some creature on the computer screen. Her hair had been thrown into a messy bun, a pencil stuck through it, and for a moment all Sam could see was Charlie hacking into some obscure database.

"We've been here a week, we know the ropes," Claire, who had just woken up despite it being nearly noon, replied. She was still in her pajamas, pouring some cereal into a bowl.

Alex had a whole spread in front of her – two laptops, one hacking into various police records in search of anything Lucifer or Amara related, one scrolling through endless pages of lore. She waved Sam off.

Sam was amused, obviously, but also worried. Gavin had left five nights ago to try and track down some leads of where Lucifer was holding Crowley, and now Dean and Sam had to leave to check out some werewolf case.

Dean joined his brother, they said goodbye to the girls, and left.

"So what now?" Claire asked as she finished her breakfast and leaned back in her chair. "We're not actually going to sit around and wait for dumb and dumber to get back?"

"What else are we gonna do?" Alex frowned, typing away at the laptop to her left.

Sara looked at the clock, and yawned. "I vote on a nap – Claire's music kept me up all night," she joked.

"Fine, be a buzzkill," Claire grumped, eating her breakfast/lunch.

"I do really need a shower," Alex admitted. "How about we get some TLC and watch a movie tonight?"

"Sounds great," Sara nodded. "If you need me, I'll be sleeping – with earplugs," she teased, and Claire gave her the finger.

Sara headed for her room, intending to fall into her bed and sleep for as long as she could before Claire decided to rattle her teeth. As soon as she fell onto the bed, though, her phone chimed. Figuring it was Sam or Dean reminding them to do something, she sighed, fishing the phone from her pocket. She sat up quickly when she saw her father's number flash across the screen. She hit the message and read what it said.

 _33.0048° N, 110.7854° W._

Sara sprang from her bed, running back into the affectionately dubbed Riveting Research Room by Claire. She slid to a stop, Alex and Claire looking up.

"What's up?" Alex frowned.

"Yeah, you burst in here like a bat outta hell," Claire said, and grinned at her own joke.

Sara shoved the phone out. "A text, from my father. I think they're coordinates."

Alex took the phone, glancing at the coordinates and typing them into her search bar. Immediately, a Wikipedia page and some Google maps popped up.

"Hayden, Arizona," Alex read, squinting at the screen. "Super secluded, only about 600 people living there. On the cusp of the Grand Canyon. Pretty inconspicuous."

"Maybe he escaped and is trying to tell me where he is," Sara said in a rush of excitement, her voice rising several octaves with the sheer hope riding on it.

"Why wouldn't he just call, though?" Alex was skeptical – she knew a thing or two about luring people and this was almost definitely a trap.

"Because he still has Lucifer looking for him," Sara guessed. "Or he's hurt. Or . . ." she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We've got to go there!"

"To Arizona?" Claire raised her eyebrows.

Alex typed something into her computer. "That's almost eighteen hours there," she said hesitantly.

"We can take turns driving, and get there by this time tomorrow," Sara insisted.

Claire and Alex looked at each other, hesitant.

"We could call Gavin," Alex said, a bit begrudgingly.

"And it's not like we're Saming and Deaning," Claire agreed.

"Claire, for the last time, you can't use 'Sam' and 'Dean' as verbs," Alex sighed.

"So we can go?" Sara pushed.

The other two hesitated again.

"Okay," Alex finally agreed.

"I'll call Gavin," Claire added, already dialing his number.

Sara raced back to her room, packing her bag quickly. Just the basic essentials – clothes, toothbrush, phone charger, Smith & Wesson 9mm, two trench knives, a stiletto blade, salt, socks, and her journal. She tied on a pair of boots, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the garage.

Claire joined her moments later, tossing her own dufflebag into the back of her truck.

"Gavin is on his way," she said, turning to look at Sara. "He's in Utah, so he's going to meet us halfway there."

"Okay, I locked the place up," Alex breathed as she rushed into the garage. "I'll take the first shift driving. You guys should sleep for a while."

While Sara stared at the text message, frowning and running it through her head over and over, Claire took Alex's advice. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, and when she did, she knew immediately she was dreaming.

She was back in her childhood home in Pontiac. She felt her heart squeeze inside of her chest at the familiarity of it all – the smell of her mother's vanilla candles, the sound of a lawnmower whirring next door, the sight of all the photos on the wall. She stood perfectly still, afraid that if she moved she'd ruin it.

"Claire."

She turned at the familiar voice, frowning as her father stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Claire blinked, looking him up and down.

"D-dad?" she asked, hesitating.

He sighed. "No," he said, his voice instantly recognizable. Claire relaxed, but then instantly tensed up.

"Cas? Are you . . ." she hesitated, debating whether or not to run, and if it would be any use since she was in a dream.

"I'm me," he confirmed, looking down at himself as though confirming for himself.

Claire let out the breath she'd been holding. "I was afraid you were dead!" she hissed. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Why would you –?"

"To save Sam," he cut her off. "And the world."

Claire blinked, not sure what else to say. "Um, whoa," she said after a minute, scratched the back of her neck. "Heavy stuff."

Castiel gave a small smile. "Yes," he agreed. "Very heavy."

"So, what are you doing here? How are you here?" Claire asked, leaning against the couch – the same couch her and her dad used to lay on and watch _Cars_ (when Claire's mom was home) and _Mad Max_ (when her mother was not home). The stain from where Jimmy spilled his beer and blamed the cat was still there. It was exactly how the house looked when Claire last saw it.

"Lucifer is preoccupied. I only had enough power to appear to you through a dream – I'm here to warn you," Castiel said, jerking her mind back into the present. "And to apologize." He shook his head, looking disgusted. "I knew that allowing Lucifer to share this vessel would be dangerous, but at the time the greater good tempted me into making a rash decision. I've been, well, to be blunt, practically useless and I thought that if I helped keep the world safe . . . Never did I imagine . . . _couldn't_ imagine that he'd try to hurt you. Claire, I'm so sorry. I understand that you must be very angry about it –"

"You think I'm pissed off because I got hurt?" Claire could almost feel her blood boiling she was so mad. "I don't care if I get hurt! I'm going to be a hunter, Cas, hunters get hurt! I'm mad because you apparently think so little of yourself that you thought it would be okay to abandon Sam, and Dean, and _me_ to be the devil's bitch! You think you're so righteous, such a hero, that you thought this would be a good idea? _This_?" Claire ran her hands through her hair, trying not to cry – she always cried when she got angry, and it always just made her even angrier. "What's gonna happen to you?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted quietly.

"Are you going die?"

"I might."

"But you'll come back, right? Because you always come back?"

"Claire . . ." he tilted his head slightly, looking pained. "I don't think so this time."

"You're going to leave me behind?" she said it quietly, not meeting his eyes, her father's eyes. Out of fear or anger, she wasn't sure.

"Claire, I'd never –"

"But you are." She looked at him, finally. "Can't you get out? Push him out?

"I can't," Cas shook his head. "I don't have enough power. I tried to expel him when he was . . . when he attacked you. But I couldn't." He looked up and around, as though seeing or hearing something Claire couldn't see.

"I have to go," he said. "He notices I'm gone. Claire, you shouldn't be leaving the bunker. Lucifer want Sara's power and he'll hold all three of you against Sam and Dean. You're in danger."

"So are you," Claire said, but she was suddenly back in the truck, blinking open her eyes and looking around. Alex had pulled over, and Sara was getting into the drivers seat.

"How long have we been driving?" Claire yawned.

Alex turned and looked at her. "Around four hours," she said. "You were sleeping pretty hard so we didn't want to wake you. Got you some jerky and a water, though."

She passed the food back, and Claire chewed her food thoughtfully as they cruised down the empty highway. She obviously had a real connection with Castiel, more than a dream. And normally she'd probably heed his warning – but she was angry, and headstrong.

"So how much longer to Arizona?" she asked.


	20. Chapter 20

**Two chapters tonight since they're so short! Enjoy!**

* * *

"I dunno, Sara. It does look pretty suspicious."

Gavin frowned at the simple text of the coordinates. He scratched at the stubble on his chin – he'd been on the road nonstop since the last time he'd seen the girls, only stopping occasionally at cheap motels for a nap and a shower. His hair was thrown in a bun and he had a recently stitched cut above his eye.

"I know, I know it does," Sara said nervously, afraid he'd keep them from following the lead. "But Gavin, it's our dad. I know it is. My powers have been going crazy since we got on the road – I can't go more than two hours without my eyes changing. It's gotta be a sign, yeah?"

"Or your own nerves," her brother replied. "If it's Da, why didn't he just appear to us? Or call?"

"He might be in trouble, Gavin," Sara begged. "Please, you've spent years trying to find him again. Are you really going to pass up this chance?"

Gavin sighed, running his hand over his face. "Why are you so attached to him anyway? He ditched you, and me."

"The same reason you've been looking for him," Sara reminded him. "He's family."

Gavin huffed, looking back at his truck. "Alright. Get your stuff."

Sara tried to keep from squealing as she ran to grab her backpack. Claire and Alex exited the convenience store, carrying bags of water and snacks. "So what's the verdict, Crowley Crew?" Claire asked. "We doing this or what?"

"We'll take my truck, it has more room," Gavin nodded.

"Awesome sauce. My turn to drive?" Claire started towards the truck.

"What? Claire," Gavin frowned, following after. "No, no, Claire –!"

Alex looked at Sara, offering a supportive smile. "Should be fun."

It was, for the first fifteen minutes. Then Claire and Gavin got into it.

"Do you have any idea what you're even saying?" Claire demanded.

"Do you?" Gavin retorted, gripping the steering wheel tightly and keeping his eyes on the road despite Claire's loud tone and angry movements.

"You seriously think that the Stones are better than the Beatles? That's wrong! It's un-American!"

"I'm Scottish!"

"Yeah, and from like, 1700! What do you know about music?"

"I've been here for three years! I think I've learned enough to know which bands are better than others."

"Obviously not, if you think the Rolling Stones are even slightly superior to the Beatles!"

"Are we there yet?" Sara groaned.

"No!" Gavin and Claire exclaimed together.

"I bet I can settle this," Alex said, pushing forward from the back seat and plugging in the aux chord. The Immigration Song bean to beat from the speakers. Claire and Gavin glanced at each other, before begrudgingly succumbing to the power of Led Zeppelin.

It was past midnight when they arrived in Hayden, AZ, each one as exhausted as the next from shifts of driving. The motel they got was old and about as dusty inside as it was out. They got two rooms, one for Gavin and one for the girls.

"Alright, let's get some real sleep and regroup," Gavin said as they stopped by their rooms. "We'll check out the coordinates in the morning."

They split up, each going to their rooms. Alex immediately set up her portable base, her tablets and laptops set up on her bed. Claire started stripping, mumbling about a shower, and Sara checked her phone again. No new messages. Sighing, she fell onto the small couch, curling up and rubbing her temples.

"You okay?" Alex asked, glancing at her.

Sara nodded, opening her eyes. She could feel the odd, burning sensation behind her eyes and her eyesight became significantly better.

"Headache?" Alex asked, moving away from the computers to sit across from Sara, who nodded as her eyes slowly faded back to their normal brown.

"Maybe you're like Harry Potter," Alex said lightly, and Sara smiled a bit.

"So you really care about him, huh?" Alex said after a minute.

Sara shrugged a bit, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "I didn't," she admitted. "For a long time, I . . . I was just so mad at him. My whole life I've been the freaky girl with a dead mum and a deadbeat father. Then when I left London and things got stranger and stranger, the only thing I could think of, could dream of, was being normal. But then Crowley showed up and . . . well, I guess I realized normal doesn't have to be my only option."

"But the demon part? It doesn't bother you?" Alex asked, tilting her head in genuine curiosity.

Sara shrugged. "The demons weren't the ones who tried to put a blade through me," she pointed out. "A demon isn't the one possessing Castiel and trying to attack us and quite possibly take over the world. Maybe things aren't so black and white, good vs. evil – maybe there's a grey area."

"I honestly never thought of it like that," Alex admitted. "I guess after getting away from the vampires I thought that if it wasn't human, it was bad."

"I get the feeling that's the case sometimes," Sara agreed. "But there are bad humans, too."

"You guys are getting way too deep for me," Claire said as she came out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel. She pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt, pulled the towel off her head, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"I'm going to find a soda machine," she continued. "You guys want anything?"

"No thanks," Alex sighed, heading back to her bed to continue her research.

"I'm good too. I think I'll take a shower now, actually," Sara said, getting up and heading for the bathroom.

Claire shrugged and headed outside, finding a Pepsi machine outside. The only thing they weren't out of was regular Pepsi, and she had to kick the machine a few times, but she finally got it. On her way back inside, she paused outside of Gavin's room, hesitating. She knocked, and cracked it.

"You up?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting up. He had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and was lying in bed, a large book in his hands. He set it aside as Claire entered.

"Doing some light reading?" Claire asked, gesturing at the book and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He chuckled. "Just catching up on some history," he said, sitting up. "There is a lot of it."

"Wouldn't know," Claire admitted. "It's not my strong point. Alex and Sara are good at it."

"What are you good at?" Gavin asked, amused.

"Umm, mini golf," Claire said, thinking. "Puns. Nicknames."

Gavin laughed. "I don't know much about golf. What's the mini part?"

Claire blinked. "Oh, sweet lord. It's like, the best kind of golf."

"I'll be sure to try it, then," Gavin laughed.

"I'll pop your golfing cherry," Claire grinned. She rolled her soda between her hands. "So, the whole being shot several hundred years into the future thing . . . does it bother you?"

Gavin shrugged, looking thoughtful. "It did when I was getting used to things. I had no money, no home, and no idea how things worked. But once I got used to it all, I realized I'm much better off. I mean, at least in the future, I won't face an early, watery grave . . . hopefully," he added with a grin.

"But didn't you leave anything behind?" Claire asked, taking a drink of her soda. "A mom? Friends? Girlfriend?"

"Never knew my mum," he shrugged. "Most of my friends had moved on to start families, and girls . . . well, girls weren't particularly interested in the town drunk's soon."

"Yeah, I was a normal kid until my dad ran off, mom ran off, grandparents died, and the foster homes looked upon me with terror," Claire nodded in agreement.

"We're quite the pair, then," Gavin said, raising his eyebrows.

"Bonnie and Clyde," Claire said, taking another drink of soda.

"I don't know who those people are."

Claire choked on her drink. "Oh, honey," she coughed, standing. "You have the internet – get started" she said, pointing at his laptop. "There'll be a quiz in the morning."


	21. Chapter 21

"Surely this can't be right."

Sara frowned, eyes squinting against the harsh sun as she shaded her eyes, glancing at the small building in front of her. Painted a pale shade of blue, the color was faded from years of sun and dust. A half burnt out sign in the window flickered "Mel's Diner." The _open_ sign was against the glass door, but only one lone car was parked in the parking lot.

"Why would he send me here?" Sara continued in annoyance. "This doesn't make any sense! Alex, are you sure these are the coordinates?"

"Positive," Alex replied, glancing at her tablet.

"Well, at any rate, I'm starving," Claire said. "So let's get something to eat and go from there."

Begrudgingly, Sara slouched towards the restaurant. Her brother patted her shoulder sympathetically, and held the door open for her.

The diner wasn't much better on the inside; the wallpaper was peeling, and the booths were older than the girls. But still, it was air conditioned and clean, so it would do.

There were few people in the diner; a middle aged woman behind the counter, serving coffee to an older man in a ball cap; a man and a woman at a booth in the corner; a couple of teenagers sitting at the end of the counter; and the chef, who was whistling as he flipped burgers.

Sara shuddered, feeling something odd in the pit of her stomach. She looked around nervously, and realized several things at once; 1. No one was eating. 2. The door had locked behind them. 3. They were all staring at her and her friends.

Claire had noticed too, and was backing up to try the door. The woman who had been sitting in the corner stood, flipping the sign on the door to 'closed' and pulling the blinds down.

"Sara," Claire started in a warning tone.

"I know," Sara said, the girls and Gavin standing in a semi-square in defensive stances. Claire drew her angel blade from inside her jacket, Sara withdrew her trench knife from her sleeve. Gavin's .45 Desert Eagle clicked as he cocked it, and Alex flicked her stiletto blades open.

Within moments, everyone else in the diner's eyes had flickered black.

"You bitches don't know who you're messing with," Claire warned.

Everyone demon in the diner withdrew an angel blade.

"Oh, son of a bitch. Why not just change the name from angel blade to everyone-and-their-brother blade?" Claire rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. The others followed suit, outnumbered, as they dropped their weapons.

The waitress looked them over. "Take them downstairs," she said.

"She meant downstairs like a basement, right?" Claire whispered to Sara. "Not, you know, _downstairs_ , downstairs."

"I don't know, Claire," Sara hissed, still holding her hands up as the rest of the demons forced them through a set of doors and down a dark, stone staircase.

"If we die I'm _so_ not forgiving you," Claire hissed back. "I'll haunt you – even if we both die. I'll haunt your ghost."

They carefully made their way down the stairs, until they reached a long, musty hallway. Two demons in suits guarded a heavy, wooden door. They glanced at the girls and Gavin for a moment, then opened the doors.

Claire had been expecting fire and brimstone. Alex had been expecting an intricate torture chamber. Gavin had been thinking of escape routes. And Sara didn't know what to think.

Ancient, marble floors stretched out in the large chamber of a room, as well as several large pillars that held up the dome shaped ceiling with intricate crown molding. The ancient stone walls were lined with shelves and wardrobes and artifacts. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, candles twinkling in the dim lighting. Tapestries and ornate rugs were draped about the room, giving it a majestic air.

People – no, demons – were bustling around, some chatting and some barking orders, some rushing around with papers and files and others sharpening weapons.

The group stepped into the room, looking around in awe.

The demon who had led them stepped in front of them. "This way, your highness."

It took a moment for Sara to realize she was talking to her, and she blinked before following the demon, weaving through the gaggle of demons with Claire, Alex, and Gavin directly behind her.

They were led across the room towards a table where maps were spread out. Two demons stood close together, talking and pointing. One was the largest man Sara had ever seen, taller than Sam and twice as broad. His skin was dark brown, almost the same color as his eyes, and his head was shaved closely. Beside him was a young woman, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, who looked to be of Chinese descent. Her long black hair was pulled back neatly. She was very small compared to the mountain of a man she stood next to, but still just as intimidating. Both wore simple, well tailored suits. The woman was speaking, and the large man next to her observed and nodded.

They looked up as Sara approached, and stopped talking, standing up straight.

"Your highness," the man greeted, his voice deep and rumbling. He gave a slight bow, and the woman beside him followed suit.

Sara was thoroughly confused. "What's going on?" she asked, looking around. "What is this place – who are you?"

"My name is Roland, this is Camille," he continued. "We work for your father."

Sara's heart beat faster in anticipation. "Where is he?"

"We don't know," Camille said. Her voice was smooth and expressionless, and Sara suppressed a shiver. "However, now that you're here, we know he's alive."

Sara frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"After the Abaddon crisis, Crowley left specific instructions should anything happened to him," Roland continued, crossing his massive arms and leaning against the table. "When he found you, he updated those instructions. If anything, the King is thorough."

"Hold up, I'm gonna need some background info here," Claire said, stepping forward. "What exactly is this place?"

"Hell has established units like this all over the globe," Camille said, gesturing for them to follow her to the table. "We store records, weapons, and other information in them." She pointed at a map and flipped a switch on the table. Dozens of red lights popped up all over the map. "These are the ones currently in operation. Unfortunately some of the demons have turned to Lucifer's side." She turned a dial, and all the dots except for about a dozen turned blue. "The blue dots are the units that have been compromised."

"Since our usual base of operations is now under Lucifer's control we've relocated here," Roland continued. "These demons you see around you are Crowley's supporters. Some of the only ones left."

"But what does all this have to do with me?" Sara demanded, getting impatient.

"If you received information on how to get here it means that Crowley is alive, and must have escaped from Lucifer."

"Then why isn't he here?" Claire asked suspiciously.

"If our reports are correct, we have to assume the rumors are true, and that he's looking for something," Camille said. "He sent you here because as Crowley's advisors, it falls upon Roland and myself to guard you."

"We've got Winchesters," Claire said sassily, crossing her arms.

Camille raised her eyebrows. "Yes, the Winchesters who, working on a simple werewolf case, managed to get shot."

"What?!" Claire demanded.

"I believe it was only one," Roland glanced at Camille boredly. "The big one."

Alex was already dialing Dean's number on her phone, walking a few feet away. "Dean? Dean, it's Alex . . ."

"How do you know so much?" Gavin demanded.

"It's our job," Roland chuckled. "Listen kid –"

"Gavin," he replied, trying to look bigger next to Roland the Giant. " _MacLeod_."

Roland raised his eyebrows. "The Prince returns," he said after a moment. "We lost tabs on you two years ago."

"I know," Gavin replied simply.

"Sam's okay," Alex said breathlessly as she returned. "I didn't tell them where we were, but they're staying in a hotel for a few days while Sam recovers, so we'll be able to beat them home."

"I still don't understand why my father couldn't call, or come to me," Sara said, chewing on her pinkie nail.

"The King has a fierce protection plan surrounding you," Camille said. "For whatever reason, you do actually seem to mean something to him. Perhaps due to the immense power building inside of you."

"Or due to the fact that she's his kid," Claire sassed.

"Demons don't really do emotions," Camille shrugged.

"Tell that to Meg," Roland muttered, and Camille shut up.

"But the fact remains that if he is being followed he could potentially lead Lucifer right to you," Roland went on.

"But if he's out there on his own he could be in trouble!" Sara argued. "We should find him and help him!"

"What is he looking for?"

Everyone turned to glance at Alex, who was looking thoughtful. Frowning, she continued. "You said he was looking for something. What?"

Roland and Camille hesitated, looking at each other.

Sara's eyes widened slightly with realization. "He's looking for the Hands of God," she said. "My dad and Lucifer are looking for the same thing."

"That makes it even more dangerous," Gavin said.

"Then we'll just have to find it first," Sara said, and everyone looked at her. She continued. "If we find it before Lucifer we can give it to Dad to use against him."

"And how exactly are we going to find one of these things?" Claire demanded.

"Sam said Lucifer wanted to use me to find them," Sara went on. "That means that somehow I must be able to locate them."

"Absolutely not," Roland said, shaking his head. "We can't allow you to be put in harms way."

"I'm not asking," Sara said firmly. "Bring me any lore you have on these Hands. That's an order."

Hesitating, Camille and Roland looked at each other for a long moment before doing what they were told.

"Dude, that was awesome!" Claire whispered to Sara.

"I might puke," Sara whispered back, stomach queasy.

"Here it is," Camille said smugly as she rejoined them. Behind her, four demons pushed large carts full of books of all sizes, ages, and languages.

Sara's shoulders slumped in disappointment. It would take them ages to go through all of those.

She sighed. Might as well get started now.

"Alright, guys," she said, picking up a book. "Let's get started."


	22. Chapter 22

"I've got something."

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Sara set down the book she'd furiously been leafing through, and Gavin looked over the pile of books in front of him. Alex looked up from her laptop, where she'd been searching through artifact directories. Even Roland glanced over from where he was talking quietly with Camille. Eight hours of reading and searching for clues had everyone irritable and desperate.

Claire held up the handwritten journal she'd been trying to decipher.

"Does it say something about a Hand?" Gavin asked, pulling his hair off his face and into a messy ponytail.

"Not exactly. This is a log of items back from the last time Lucifer was out. Most of the stuff is pretty detailed but this just says 'Nevada Crypt, various religious paraphernalia.'"

Camille frowned, taking the journal and glancing at it. "I know this crypt," she said. "It's one of the smaller ones, nothing Lucifer was ever concerned with. I doubt he even knows where it is."

"It's better than anything we've got so far," Gavin supplied.

"It can't hurt to at least check it out," Alex agreed.

"It's too dangerous," Roland said bluntly, standing. "I'll go myself."

"You don't even know what to look for," Claire argued.

"Do you?" the demon retorted, and Claire narrowed her eyes but decided she liked Roland the Demon.

"I'll go," Sara said, standing. "I guess somehow I'll know where or what it is."

"I can force you to stay here," Roland told her.

"You could," she replied simply. "Or you could come with me and we could help my father together."

The demon had to admire her courage and determination. With a glance at Camille, who gave a defeated shrug, he looked back at her, and nodded.

It took about four hours to get to the crypt, which was hidden beneath an old, broken down church on the outskirts of a small town. It was late, but there were no stars or moon visible, and it was totally quiet save for the far off rumble of thunder. Sara shuddered at the ominous sound.

Camille parked the SUV and everyone exited the vehicle, armed and more than ready for a fight. Everyone looked at Sara, who looked uncomfortable.

"What?" she demanded.

"Do you . . . you know," Alex started. "Feel anything?"

"No," Sara said, annoyed with herself. "I don't know how it works. How am I supposed to know if we're . . . close . . ." her eyes widened slightly as she caught a glance of the back of her hand. Her veins were pulsing a very faint red glow under her skin. She quickly ripped off her jacket and looked at her arms, revealing more of the same pulsing light.

"Rad," Claire said, but she was obviously nervous. "You're like a human lava lamp."

"Shut up, Claire." Sara took a deep breath. "I guess we must be close."

"I'll keep watch out here," Roland said, standing by the gap where the church door used to be. "If you need something just shout."

Sara nodded, and followed Camille into the church.

"It's just up here," the demon said, stopping in front of a large statue of the Mother Mary. Camille took a step back before slamming her foot into the statue. It cracked in half, and Camille pushed it the rest of the way over.

"That was pretty awesome," Claire said finally, breaking the awkward silence as the others stared at Camille with awe.

Camille looked amused. "Come on."

She opened the trap door the statue had sat upon, and led them down an ancient looking stone staircase until she reached a large wooden door. She pushed it open, and the girls and Gavin flipped on their flashlights.

"Here," Camille said, lighting the torches that hung on the walls. The room was illuminated with light, allowing them to see just how much stuff was in the crypt. Crates and barrels were everywhere and shelves were lined with dusty artifacts and boxes.

"It'll take forever to go through all of this!" Claire complained.

"No, I don't think it will," Gavin said, staring at Sara.

Sara looked down at herself, finding that the pulsing glow had turned into a swirling golden-red light. Her arms shook violently with the tension and pressure inside her, and she felt a painful stabbing behind her eyes, head pounding.

Her knees started to shake, and Gavin caught her before she went down. Sara leaned against him, breathing heavily.

"We don't have to do this," Gavin told her quietly. "If this is hurting you we can turn around and leave. You're not obligated to do any of this."

"I'm _fine_ ," she gritted through her teeth. She looked around, stopping when her eyes blurred for a moment before landing on an object that emitted the same eerie glow as her veins.

She pushed herself up and towards an ancient looking chest. There was a heavy lock on it, and she glanced at it.

"I have some bolt cutters in my backpack," Gavin said. "I'll run up to the car and grab them."

In response, Sara grabbed the lock in her fist and ripped it off in one fluid movement, tossing it aside.

No one said anything for several long moments. Of course, Claire was the first one to speak.

"I'm sorry I called you a lava lamp."

Sara smiled through the pain. You could always count on Claire to lighten the mood.

Sara lifted the lid of the chest. Inside was something wrapped in old cloths, and she pulled them aside, revealing a coiled bronze snake. Blinking, she started to reach for it.

Camille suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch it," she warned. "Whoever touches the Hand will absorb its power; in your current condition there's no telling what it could do to you."

"Don't worry – I'll take it off your hands for you."

Sara spun around, and Camille stepped in front of her, drawing an angel blade. Claire lifted her blade, too, and Gavin and Alex cocked their guns.

Lucifer leaned against the door, hands shoved in his pockets and looking relaxed, if not amused.

"I wasn't expecting to find the Powerpuff Girls and Friends," Lucifer continued. "But boy am I glad I did. This makes things so much easier – what's that saying, killing two birds with one really sharp knife or something?"

"Run," Camille told Sara, never taking her glance off Lucifer. "Get yourselves out of here. I'll take care of him."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows at her, withdrawing his hand from his pocket and snapping his fingers.

With a terrible snap, Camille's back broke completely in half. She collapsed to the floor, but at the last moment poured out of the vessel in a cloud of black smoke, disappearing.

"Go tell you demon friends Daddy's back in town!" Lucifer called after her. He looked back at Sara. "So, you're the little hellspawn? Well, you're certainly not what I was expecting. What are you, sixteen? Seventeen? Put that gun back in its holster, Claire," he added loudly, glancing across the room to where Claire was slowly drawing her own pistol. "You know better."

Gavin cursed and Alex cried out as their weapons were thrown from their hands. With a wave of his hand, Lucifer knocked all three of them back. They slammed into the walls, crates and barrels collapsing.

Sara spun around, reaching for the Hand. She cried out as Lucifer appeared behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her away from it.

"You don't look so good, kiddo," he told her, grabbing her wrist. When he touched her, the glow flared and Sara gasped, feeling as though her blood was boiling inside her body. Her heart was beating so fast and hard that it was painful, and she tasted blood in her mouth briefly, as though she were choking on it. "That's just a preview of what I'll do to you if you don't cooperate," Lucifer warned Sara.

Claire rolled over, ignoring the sharp pain of her bumps and bruises. She desperately felt for a weapon, her hand landing on Gavin's sawed off; she picked it up, aimed, and fired.

Lucifer let go, sending Sara tumbling backwards. Lucifer was bleeding steadily, the flesh blasted off of half his face. He looked angrily at Claire as she rushed towards him, angel blade in hand. He tossed her aside easily, and she landed roughly against the ground. Alex fired off several rounds into Lucifer's stomach, and he looked annoyed as he threw her backwards, slamming her face into the wall. She fell to the ground unconscious, and Lucifer glanced at Gavin as he rushed to load his gun. Lucifer knocked him back, trapping him as a pile of rubble fell over on top of him.

Sara reached for Camille's angel blade, wrapping her hand around it, but Lucifer snatched it from her and lifted her by the front of her shirt, slamming her against the wall. His face oozed blood from the raw shotgun wound, and he was obviously enraged that things weren't going to plan.

"I really wanted Crowley to be present when I tortured the living will out of you," he remarked, so eerily calm it was horrific. "But I guess this'll have to do."

Sara screamed as he shoved the angel blade through her shoulder. Gasping for breath, the wound flashing as though she'd been electrocuted. Her head spun and she reached for the blade, but Lucifer twisted it and she cried out again.

Claire slammed the butt of her gun against Lucifer's head, and he dropped Sara, turning and shoving Claire back effortlessly. She fired a shot, and it went through Lucifer's stomach, but he hardly stumbled.

Sara stumbled to her feet, yanking the blade from her shoulder and trying to catch her breath. Claire was coming at Lucifer again, but he backhanded with ease, pulling an angel blade from his coat and standing over her. Sara attacked madly, swinging the angel blade with both hands, only for it to collide with Lucifer's. Their blades slammed into each others, sending sparks into the air. Lucifer glared at Sara's blade and it burned hot, blistering the skin off her hands, but she ground her teeth and held on. Lucifer looked shocked, and the blade grew hotter. Sara pushed it forward, slamming it into Lucifer's arm. It only scratched him but he still hissed with pain, knocking it away.

For the moment Sara had to glance around, it was like time slowed. All her friends were down. Alex was lying unconscious on the ground, face caked in blood. Gavin was trying to push the rubble off of himself, working around the pain of his cracking ribs. Claire was trying to roll over and get back up, holding her arm.

Seeing her friends like this did something to Sara. Maybe it was courage, or strength, or some other cheesy bullshit like that - but whatever it was, it fueled her to stand up and come up with a plan. She glanced at the bronze snake, still coiled in the chest. She dove towards it, grabbing the chest and tilting it towards her.

Lucifer's eyes widened as he realized what she was doing. "No!" he screamed as Sara wrapped her hand around the Hand of God.

If Sara had been feeling scared, or angry, or hurt, it dissipated quickly. Her emotions were replaced with pure power as she stood up straight, eyes turning black, and then shining gold. Her entire body literally pulsed with energy as she looked towards Lucifer, who was looking frightened.

Sara smiled, but it soon turned into a sneer. With an angry shout, Sara slammed her arms out, hands connecting with Lucifer's chest. Ribs broke like glsass under her fingers and Lucifer's eyes widened as he was slammed backwards with a force strong enough to send him into the wall across the crypt, shaking the building on top and dropping stone and rubble on him. Sara felt something ripple through her and she slammed the power against Lucifer again, snapping his head and limbs backwards as the pressure pressed down on him. Blood vessels popped in his eyes and face as he struggled against the pressure. He reached for his blade.

There was a sudden flash of blinding white light, and Lucifer disappeared.

Breathing heavily as her body returned to normal, Sara looked around. Alex was still out cold, and Gavin was helping Claire to stand. Confused on what had happened, she looked around for an explanation.

Her father stood at the entrance, bloody hand pressed against a banishing sigil.

"Dad," Sara breathed. She started to take a step towards him, when the overwhelming sense of exhaustion and pain swept over her. Her knees shook and gave out, and she felt herself start to fall, head swimming and vision blurring. Someone caught her, and she blinked a few times, looking up at her father.

"Hi," she said weakly.

"Sara," he sighed, brushing some blood matted hair out of her face. "Somewhere, your mother is cursing my name."

Sara smiled. "Are Camille and Roland okay?"

"Beat nearly to death and you're worried about the hired help. Yes, darling, they'll be fine once they get back into their bodies."

"That's good . . ." she drifted off into unconsciousness as she spoke, wondering how long she was going to be grounded for when she woke up.


	23. Chapter 23

"What were you _thinking_ , Claire? What were any of you thinking?! I wanted you in the Bunker so you'd be safe!"

Claire flinched away as Jody dabbed at the cut on her face. She was glaring at her, but not as badly as the woman was glaring back at her.

"You're all lucky to be alive," Jody continued, pressing the cut together and sealing it with a butterfly bandage. "What happened back there?"

"Can we not? For like five minutes? I still feel like I might puke after demon speed travel."

"You're lucky to be alive," Jody repeated.

"We're all lucky to be alive after what Sara did," Gavin agreed as he sat up, groaning under the pressure of his newly bandaged ribs.

"What, turning Lucifer into a Satan Sandwich? Yeah," Claire agreed as Jody moved to her wrist. "She went Super Saiyan or something."

"I don't know what that is." Gavin nodded at her shoulder. "Ready?"

She swallowed. "Just do it."

Jody looked away, unable to watch as Gavin took Claire's forearm.

"One . . . two . . ." He yanked on her arm, and Claire screamed as the shoulder popped back into socket. She gasped for breath, but felt relief at the same time.

Jody put her arm in a sling, and checked over her once more. Claire wouldn't meet her eyes. Jody's own eyes were red and puffy, and Claire felt sick – nothing was worse than seeing Jody cry. She'd only arrived a half hour ago, but hadn't known about any of this – she'd only been coming to check on the girls. She hadn't expected to find them beaten and unconscious, and in the company of demons, and Claire felt insanely guilty.

"Are Sara and Alex okay?" she asked quietly.

"They're resting," Jody said stiffly. "Alex has a concussion and a broken wrist. And Sara . . ." she sighed. "Her dad is with her. She'll be fine."

"I should go check on Sara and Da," Gavin said, standing and making his way out of the suddenly very tense room.

Jody and Claire were silent for several long moments.

"Jody . . ."

"What were you thinking?" Jody repeated, eerily quiet and calm. She didn't look at her, and her voice was so low you could hardly hear her. "What were you girls thinking? We're you trying to get yourselves killed – or worse?"

"We had to do something," Claire tried to explain. "We weren't looking for trouble, Jody. We just wanted to help. We were totally useless sitting around here!"

"So you attacked the Devil?!

" _He_ attacked _us_!"

Jody was crying again, and Claire could feel her heart breaking. "You're not Sam and Dean, Claire, you're a bunch of teenage girls! You're babies!"

"We were trying to save the world!"

"It's not your job to save the world!" Jody shouted. "It's not your job to hunt these, these _things_ , or to pick fights with Lucifer, and it's certainly not your job to die!"

She sat heavily on the end of the bed, burying her face in her hands and sobbing quietly.

"I already lost one baby," she cried. "I can't lose you girls, too."

Claire sat beside her, and Jody gathered her into her arms, holding her.

"I'm sorry," Claire said, tears streaming down her own face. "We wanted to help."

"I know," Jody sniffed, stroking Claire's hair. "I know. But next time . . . dammit, Claire. Next time get help to help you help. God that sounds dumb."

Claire laughed and sobbed, and Jody kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, Jody," Claire said.

"I love you, too," Jody sniffed. "You and your crazy sisters."

* * *

Crowley wasn't a fan of emotions, especially not the ones that made him worried. But sitting beside the bed where his unconscious daughter lay, looking half dead, he felt nothing but emotions – relief. Anger. More relief. Guilt. And an unbelievable sense of protection.

He stroked back some of Sara's hair, examining a dark bruise on her temple. Every mark on her body just angered him further. He should have contacted her the moment he escaped Lucifer – but his own damn self-preservation kept him from doing so.

Even he was disgusted with himself.

"Is she okay?"

Crowley had heard his son enter, but made to move to acknowledge him. After a moment, though, he sighed.

"She'll live," he said shortly.

"Sara did something pretty damn powerful back there," Gavin said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "She attacked Lucifer head on, and was winning."

"Impressive as that is, there's still the fact that it nearly killed her," Crowley replied. For several moments after Sara lost consciousness, her breathing had slowed almost to a stopping point, and her skin had lost all color. Though her pulse was still weak, she was alive, and for that Crowley was relieved. "She was weak, so her attack wasn't at full strength – if it had been, it would have killed her."

"She's strong," Gavin continued, looking at his sister. "She'll make it."

"I have no doubt," Crowley agreed, though he secretly couldn't help but be worried.

Gavin pushed off the wall with a sigh. "I'd best better go check on Jody again."

"Is she still crying?"

"Aye."

"I'll leave it to you, then. Son," he called, and Gavin glanced at him.

Crowley looked at him. "Haven't been smoking, have you?"

Gavin grinned. "No, sir."

Crowley gave a nod, and Gavin left. Sighing, Crowley leaned over and pulled Sara's blankets up around her shoulders. He settled back into his chair, rubbing his forehead and wondering how the hell he got into this situation.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" Sara mumbled, and Crowley sat up.

"A lot of it," he assured her.

"Mm. Maybe I won't wake up yet, then."

"You'll be in more trouble if you don't, Sara," he warned her as she tried to sit up.

"Sit still. Here," he ordered as he leaned forward, tilting a water bottle to her lips. She took a few sips and leaned back.

"How bad?" she asked, voice hoarse. She lifted her hands, examining the bandages around them, finding that it was extremely painful to even move her fingers.

"Your shoulder wound is deep but it didn't pierce any bone or tendons. It'll heal. I don't know how you ended up with second degree burns covering your hands," her father continued.

"Angel blade." Her eyes suddenly widened and she struggled to sit up. "Alex. Claire. Gavin. Oh, God, are they –?"

"They're fine," Crowley promised, pushing her back as gently as he could. "I had my people bring you back to the Bunker. Jody is here, she's taking care of the girls and Gavin is fine."

She gave a little nod, relaxing back into her pillows. "How'd you find us?"

"Camille."

"Is Lucifer . . .?"

"Seriously pissed? Yes. But also licking his wounds. Which one of you shot him in the face?"

"Claire."

"Roland owes me ten bucks, then."

Sara smiled weakly.

"Sara," Crowley started, leaning forward. "I should have told you to stay away from the Hands. I realize you're bolder than I am, but I never thought you'd go after them yourself. I'm sorry."

"Just glad you're okay," she muttered. "Thought maybe you were sick of me."

"Never."

She smiled again, and if Crowley had a heart, he was sure it would be breaking.

"Hey Dad."

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm glad you're not dead," she mumbled, falling asleep.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'm glad you're not dead, too, love."

"I'm going to take a nap."

"Of course. I'll be here."

"Hey Dad."

"Yes?"

"You knocked that can off the fence, didn't you?"

Crowley chuckled. "Go to sleep, Sara."

"'Kay."

He watched his daughter fall asleep, and looked up to find Jody leaned against the door, no longer crying, but still distraught.

"What?" he demanded as she stared at him.

She shrugged. "Just, for the first time . . . I'm glad you're not dead, too."


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey there everyone! I'm going to wrap this up in a few chapter with end of season 11 and pick up with part 2 when season 12 starts!**

 **Just to give you a little idea, Part 2 of this story will be dealing heavily on how the girls help in the search for Sam, how they all adjust to their new relationships - while possibly making some new ones - and how they take up arms to defend (or ally?) themselves against Lucifer. All while getting through senior year of high school!**

 **Stay tuned for great things and thanks for staying loyal!**

* * *

Sara yawned, and sighed heavily. Her father had ordered her to stay in bed as much as possible but if there was one thing Sara was bad at, it was sitting still. For the past three days she'd done nothing but sleep, read some books her father and Sam had brought her, watch some bad TV, and chat with Claire and Alex, who were also healing. Sara's legs ached to get out and stretch, and she made up her mind – she needed to walk around, and she was getting her appetite back. Her father had left a the day before to "deal with some things" and Sam and Dean were out looking for a Hand, so there was no one to make her go back to bed – if she could avoid Jody, anyway.

She slowly sat up, her shoulder pulsing with pain but she ignored it, carefully pulling on a clean t-shirt and shorts and shoving her feet into some slippers. She was sore, but ignored that too as she made her way out of her room and towards the kitchen.

She frowned when she heard voices coming from in there. She had wanted to avoid Jody, but her stomach growled, so she pushed the door open.

The smell of something delicious hit her immediately and she almost drooled over the rich scent. Jody was leaning against the counter, beer in hand, while a woman Sara had never seen before stirred some soup on the stove. She was around Jody's age, with honey blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed similarly to Jody, in a button up shirt and jeans, and Sara noticed a Sheriff's jacket draped over a chair. She was smiling, and had one of the kindest faces Sara had ever seen.

Jody glanced at Sara, putting her beer down. "Hey, honey," she said gently. "You should be in bed. Claire and Alex are napping."

Sara grimaced. "I'd rather take a maths test than spend one more moment in that bed," she replied.

Jody smiled, laying her hand on her surrogate daughter's cheek gently. "Hungry?"

"Starved."

"Well, you're in luck," Jody said. "Donne makes the best chicken soup."

The woman smiled at Sara, and Sara blinked in surprise when she enveloped her in a gentle embrace. "Hi there, kiddo," she said, releasing her. "Jody's been telling me all about you. You have a seat there and I'll get you a bowl."

Sara nodded gratefully, sitting at the table as Donna ladled some soup into a bowl. Sara pushed some hair behind her ear and smiled at Donna as she slid the bowl in front of her. "Is Dad here?" Sara asked Jody, picking up her spoon and slowly wrapping her fingers around it – the burns on her hands were painful, but she was healing quickly, leaving her joints feeling stiff and heavy.

"He came back this morning but you were sleeping and he didn't want to wake you," Jody replied, sitting across from Sara. Donna sat, too, opening her own beer. "Gavin went with him."

Sara nodded. "Sam and Dean?"

"Should be here anytime now," Jody continued, glancing at her watch. "Sam started bleeding again so Dean stopped to stitch him back up."

As if on cue, the heavy steel door could be heard creaking open, and then slamming shut as heavy footsteps rang through the bunker, as well as what sounded like a mild argument between the Winchester brothers.

". . . don't need anymore rest, Dean. I don't need to sleep, I need a beer and the new episode of _Game of Thrones._ "

"Dude, you're such a nerd."

"So you're not watching it then?"

"I didn't say that . . ."

The kitchen door opened, and the boys entered, stopping and looking surprised.

"Donna," Dean said, looking as though he were in shock.

Donna beamed and jumped up in excitement, unable to contain herself. "Ohhh, hey you guys!" she exclaimed, moving forward to hug Dean, who hugged back but still looked shell shocked. She moved to give Sam a gentle squeeze and kiss on the cheek. "How ya feeling, Sam?"

"Had worse," he smiled at her. "It's good to see you."

"You look great," Dean blurted out, and everyone looked at him. He swallowed, looking embarrassed.

Donna blushed, but looked thoroughly pleased. "Yeah, well, I dropped a few pounds, started working out. Figured I should keep in shape if I'm gonna have to be fighting the monsters and such."

"You're hunting?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, no, not really," she said, waving her hand and sitting back down. "Not like you two. But if I catch wind of something in my neck of the woods I'll check it out. Took out a few vampires and a real ugly looking fella up in the mountains. Tall, pale, had big claws and teeth." She wrinkled her nose. "Had to improvise with some gasoline, motor oil, a box of matches and an old Dr. Pepper bottle, but he went down eventually."

"Well, congratulations," Dean said, opening a cabinet and grabbing a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses. "Hunter custom to take a shot for your first Wendigo kill."

He poured the shots for everyone, save for Sara, who sipped on her juice as the adults knocked back the alcohol, most making faces at the pungent taste.

"Sara, you look like hell, kiddo," Dean said, sitting down next to her. "How you holding up?"

"I'm okay," she admitted. "I heal fast."

"That's not what I meant."

Sara stared at the table, not looking at anyone. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, everyone's eyes were on her. Her face burned with embarrassment and shame.

She was surprised when someone laid their hand gently over hers, and looking up, she realized it was Sam. Something in his eyes made her feel less alone, and she relaxed a bit.

"I know what it's like to be victimized by Lucifer," he told her. "And I know it's not any easier with it being Cas."

Sara nodded, her face still burning. "I think I'm going to go have a shower," she said quietly, standing. "Thank you for the soup, Donna. Welcome home, boys." She briskly made her way out of the kitchen.

Jody sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm worried about my girls," she said. "Claire's been so angry about Castiel and Lucifer. Sara's getting sicker and weaker. And I'm at least eighty percent sure Alex is keeping something from me."

"Duh," Dean said, and Sam nodded.

Jody frowned. "Do you two know something?" she demanded, eyes narrowed.

"I know that Alex has a boyfriend," Dean continued, taking a drink of beer. Again, Sam nodded.

Jody looked shocked. "What? How can you two possibly know that?"

"Because I know what a lovesick teenager looks like," Dean continued, as though it were obvious. "Hell, I grew up keeping relationships from Dad."

"And I grew up keeping them from Dean," Sam agreed.

"What?" Dean frowned.

"But why wouldn't she tell me?" Jody asked, looking offended. "The girls have always come to me with boy problems before."

"Simple," Dean said, leaning back in his chair. "Whoever she's smitten with is either someone you wouldn't approve of, a whole lot older, or a chick."

Jody frowned again. "Alex knows better than to assume I would hold dating a girl against her. So that means she's with someone older or that I wouldn't approve of?" She put her head in her hands. "How am I supposed to handle supernatural problems and normal teenage problems at the same time?"

"Just give her some time," Donna said sympathetically. "She'll come 'round."

The sound of the door scraping open interrupted the conversation, as well as yet another argument.

"Why does it matter? I'm a grown man, Da, I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"I'm not telling you what to do, son, I'm giving you a warning, and a serious one at that."

"No offense but I don't think it's an especially good idea to take advice from the man who used to lock me in the barn at night."

"Well, if you'd been home by curfew . . ."

Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled something vulgar under his breath. The door opened and Crowley entered.

"Working hard, I see," he remarked.

"Yeah, you look like you're doing so much better," Dean snapped, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

"I've got a lead," Crowley retorted, pouring a glass for himself.

"Okay, you're getting way to comfortable here," Sam said in annoyance.

Crowley raised his eyebrows, though, ignoring Sam as he caught sight of Donna. "And who is this stunning young thing?" he asked, dialing up the charm and gently kissing Donna's hand.

Donna giggled girlishly, turning bright red at the gesture. "Oh, gosh," she blushed.

"Don't hold your breath, Donna, he's a demon," Dean said, looking a tad jealous.

Donna squeaked, yanking her hand away and delivering a swift slap to Crowley's cheek.

"He's also Sara's dad," Jody remarked, taking a drink of beer.

Donna gasped in embarrassment, grasping Crowley's hand. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "You have a lovely daughter."

"I'm not sure if I should be offended or amused at the moment," Crowley remarked, sipping his whiskey before pulling a face. "What is this, piss?"

"Cheap," Dean corrected. "So what's this lead you have anyway? Sam and I'll check it out."

"No, actually, you won't," Crowley replied. "It's in Saudi Arabia. I'll go, you and Jolly Green stay here on Lucifer Watch." He paused. "And, there is one more thing."

"Of course there is," Dean huffed.

"It's come to my attention that my mother is not as dead as I believed," he continued. "I don't know where she is or what she's up to. Do not under any circumstances let her near Sara."

"Why is it the only ones that ever stay dead are the good guys?" Dean complained.

"We don't stay dead," Sam reminded his brother.

"Yeah," Dean said darkly, taking another drink of beer. "Maybe says a lot about us, don't it?"

"Indeed," Crowley agreed, sitting his glass down. "I'll be off, then."

"Hold on just a second," Dean said, and Crowley frowned, raising an eyebrow.

"Sam and I got something to talk to you about," Dean continued, standing. Sam stood, too.

Crowley's curiosity was piqued, but then again, so was his suspicion. "Fine," he said. "If you'll excuse us, ladies." He exited the kitchen, walking out of earshot of the women, and turned to face the brothers. "What's this about?"

"We did some digging," Dean started.

Crowley frowned. "Into what, exactly?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Into Regina's death," Sam replied, and Crowley felt an overwhelming sense of anger and grief, and also a flutter of nervousness.

"What gave you the right –"

"Something in the story just didn't add up," Dean cut him off, crossing his arms. "An animal attack is what the official cause of death was ruled as. But that didn't seem to make any sense, see? Regina was attacked on her way home from work and her body was found in the woods. Sam did some research – Regina didn't work anywhere near the woods and her car was found still at her work. Now you tell me – how did she end up miles away, in the woods, without her car?"

"I made some calls," Sam continued. "When Regina was found it was ruled that she died from her injuries – from a deep gash through her abdomen. Seemed familiar to Dean and me."

"Really familiar," Dean agreed.

Crowley could have snapped their necks and stepped over the bodies without flinching. "Exactly _what_ are you implying?"

"We're not implying anything," Sam said. "We're telling you that we know what really killed Regina – and we think you do, too."

"Even if you had any idea what you were talking about, you both know as well as I do that the problem has been taken care of," the demon said with finality in his tone.

"You really think it's fair, keeping the truth from Sara like that?" Dean frowned, sounding more concerned now.

"I think it would upset her," Crowley retorted. "There are some things, besides for the obvious, I wish to protect her from. So as far as I'm concerned – and as far as you're concerned – Regina's death was an accident. Tragic, yes. But an accident nevertheless. Now, Moose, you're in my way."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, but they knew he was right this time – Crowley was a no good, untrustworthy son of a bitch, but he was also Sara's father, and they had to respect his wishes. With a slight sigh, Sam stepped aside, and the King of Hell showed himself out.


	25. Chapter 25

Alex was a light sleeper. Always had been, even when she was a kid, before she was abducted. She was such a light sleeper, in fact, that she could tell when someone was watching her.

She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady, but under her pillow she was clutching her stiletto knife. She could feel eyes on her, and the presence got closer. Heart racing, she tried to remain calm.

She sat up quickly, knife in hand, eyes darting around the room.

Kevin held his hands up in front of his chest in surrender. "I guess I shouldn't try to surprise you anymore."

Alex blinked, shocked and beyond confused. "Kevin – what're you doing here?" she leaned over, flipping her lamp on, and sat up. She suddenly felt very self-conscious in her too-big t-shirt and oversized flannel pants, and her hair probably looked a mess. She was glad for the dim lighting - it hid the steady blush that was slowly creeping into her cheeks.

"I was thinking about you," the ghost began, hesitating. "And then I was here. Something's going on, Alex. Lately I've felt more . . . I don't know. Powerful. Stronger, some how."

Alex fidgeted nervously. "Powerful . . . like, vengeful?"

Kevin looked hurt. "No – Alex, no, I'd never try to come near you if I thought I was . . ."

Alex softened, realizing she had hurt his feelings. "Kev, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just really worry about you – you've been stuck for so long and you've got to be getting impatient or scared or . . ."

Kevin moved to sit on the bed beside her. "Look, I just think it's you."

Alex blinked again. "Me?"

"You know that spirit's are attached to items that mean a lot to them," he continued. "My dad's ring, at first . . . and you. You're really important to me and when you told me about what happened with Lucifer I couldn't stop thinking about you. And then I was here."

Alex's eyes were wet but she bid the tears not to fall. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away. "Kevin . . ."

"Alex." Her eyes widened as she felt a cold hand grasp hers, and widened more so when she realized it was Kevin's. His image wasn't flickering.

"You're touching me," Alex whispered, feeling a tear leak down her cheek.

"Yeah," Kevin said, squeezing her hand.

She raised her free hand and laid it on his cheek, which was just as cold as his hands, like ice, but she didn't care. They leaned into each other, her heart racing, his not beating at all. They stared into each others eyes for a long moment before they pressed their lips together.

It was like an extreme static shock, and Alex jerked back, laying a hand over her stinging lips. She looked around – the lightbulb in her lamp had exploded, and her arm hair was standing on end. Kevin was gone.

She looked around shakily. "K-Kev," she called out quietly. "Are you still here?"

She waited a moment in dark silence. Then, her alarm clocked lit up and beeped twice, even though it wasn't set to go off for another three hours. _Beep . . . beep._

"Are you okay?" Alex continued.

 _Beep beep_. The clock went off again.

She released a relieved breath. She grinned, face pink in embarrassment. "Guess there was a little too much energy in that, huh?"

 _Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep._

Alex laughed. "I'm going to get some sleep," she said. "You should go home and get some rest too, and I'll call you later. Okay?"

Two more beeps, and then the clock's light dimmed, and Alex was alone once more.

* * *

"So, Sam and Dean went where exactly?"

Jody set the steaming casserole on the table, next to the green beans and the salad ingredients. Donna was finishing setting the table, and Alex was pouring drinks. Claire had just sat down, and Sara was joining her, hands freshly re-bandaged. Her mouth almost watered - every time a home cooked meal was prepared, she felt excited, like a child on their birthday. Jody was an amazing cook, and Sara hoped one day she could learn to be one, too. She wondered if her father knew how to cook - there was still so much she didn't know about him . . .

"It's not important," Jody replied for the eighth time since the boys had left that morning, and her voice brought Sara out of her thoughts.

"I mean it must be pretty important if you won't tell us," Claire pointed out, and Alex and Sara exchanged a small grin.

"Sara, could you go let your brother know that dinner is ready?" Jody asked, and Sara nodded before heading down to the gun range.

"They went to meet with him, didn't they?" Claire pushed once she was sure Sara had left the room. "They went to meet with Lucifer. That's why Crowley went to the desert, to find a Hand?"

"Honey, if I knew anything more than what you know – or think you know – I'd tell you." Jody sat down as Gavin and Sara entered the room, taking their seats. Food was passed around, and conversation was kept light. Or it was, until Jody brought up college.

"I just don't see the point in it," Claire replied, taking a bite of casserole. "Why go to college when I can be hunting?"

Jody choked on her water, coughing. Donna patted her back until Jody was able to regain her composure.

"Hunting is _not_ a career, Claire," she said sharply. "You girls are going to be seniors next year – you need to start thinking about which colleges you want to look at. You're already going to have to work hard to catch up in school – you have no idea what kind of strings I had to pull to get you taken out for a few weeks while we get this all straightened out."

"Gavin's a professional hunter," Claire argued.

"I'm a boat captain, I'm not a hunter," Gavin argued right back. "Problem is there's not an abundance of boats that I know how to captain. So I keep busy. S'pose that after all this is over, I'll have to find some way to make money."

"How about we talk about how you were able to afford that shiny new truck you love so much?" Claire asked smugly.

"How 'bout we don't," Gavin glared at her.

"Gavin should consider school, too," Judy said.

"That'd be fine, if I existed," Gavin continued. "As it is, Gavin MacLeod died centuries ago."

"Claire, Jody's right," Donna added. "You can't spend your life running credit card scams and chasing things that go bump in the night, kiddo."

"Sam and Dean do it," Claire pointed out.

"Sam and Dean have alcoholism and daddy issues," Jody retorted, and everyone mumbled in agreement.

"There's gotta be something you're interested in besides for hunting," Gavin tried to reason with her.

"Why's everyone focusing on me?" Claire grumbled. "Two other teens here. Third degree them. Get Alex."

Everyone glanced at Alex, who looked up, and blinked. "Oh," she said. "Um, I was looking at computer programming, system management, stuff like that."

"South Dakota State has a great program," Jody nodded.

Alex swallowed. "Actually, I was thinking of applying to Princeton."

Jody almost dropped her fork. "Princeton – that's – that's great, Alex! So far away, but . . . well, if anyone can do it, it's you."

"What about you, Sara?" Donna asked.

Sara pushed some hair behind her ear. "I never really thought about it," she admitted. "Kids like me – back home, in the system I mean – we didn't really get to go to university. There are so many options now, I haven't even had time to really sit down and decide what I want to do."

"You can do whatever you want," Jody encouraged. "All of you."

"I just finished binge watching _Fuller House_ on Netflix," Claire said, taking a drink of water. "Can we skip the family feel good fest?"

Jody was about to retort, when the door opened. Everyone could tell something was wrong almost immediately – normally there was banter, or soft arguing, or Dean hollering for alcohol. However, things were quiet as the boys and Crowley entered the room.

"Dad," Sara said brightly, relieved after not seeing him for several days. He let a small smile through as she approached him.

He held out his hands. "Hands," he requested, and Sara held hers out. He checked the bandages, frowning. "You're not healing very fast," he remarked, obviously agitated.

"I'm not a demon, Dad, I can't regrow skin cells overnight," she reminded him.

"Mm." He stroked her hair for a moment before moving to the liquor cabinet, where Dean was already pouring a heavy handed drink.

"Is everything alright?" Jody frowned, looking concerned.

"Well . . ." Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "We're not really sure."

"On one hand, Sara is safe from Lucifer," Dean started.

"Which is all that matters," Crowley cut in.

"And that's why you ran away with your tail tucked," Dean retorted.

"I couldn't let that bitch escape," Crowley defended himself. "Amara would never hurt her favorite little toy, now would she Dean? And Sam – well, frankly, he dies so often that he would've come back. Eventually. Probably. So no, I don't feel guilty for leaving you two."

"Slow down, all of you, and tell me what happened," Jody said. "Girls, go to your rooms."

"Like hell!" Claire said, standing. "What happened? I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what went down!"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and then looked at Crowley, who was concentrating on his drink.

"Crowley found a Hand," Dean started, tone somber. "And we thought maybe we could use it to send Lucifer back to the Cage."

"But that didn't happen," Claire stated, trying to remain calm, though her fists were clenched and her lip was quivering. "Because if it did, Cas would be here with you. Right?"

"Lucifer got a hold of the Hand," Sam continued. "But Amara showed up, and he tried to use it on her."

"Did it work?" Alex asked nervously.

"She hardly flinched," Dean said lowly, draining his glass.

"Amara took Lucifer," Sam concluded, and the room was silent.

"But, isn't that . . . good?" Donna asked. "Lucifer is, well, I mean he's Lucifer. Yeah? So with him gone . . ."

"Sara's safe," Crowley agreed.

"Well, it does take a major weight off our shoulders, but . . ." Jody hesitated.

"We have to get him back!" Sara exclaimed, and everyone looked at her.

"Sara," Crowley sighed, wondering how the hell he ended up with a daughter with such a stupidly kind heart.

"We can't leave him with her, Castiel is in there," Sara continued. "He could be hurt!"

Everyone looked up in surprise as Claire's chair scraped back and the girl threw her arms around Sara, who after a stunned moment hugged her back. Claire pulled away, looking around the room in anger and disgust.

"I'm glad _you're_ worth something, Sara," she said, glaring around at everyone before practically running from the room.

"Claire!" Jody called, starting to stand.

"I'll go," Gavin said, already out of his seat and following after her.

"Unfortunately Sara's not far off," Sam sighed. "We're fairly sure Amara took Lucifer and wants to use him to get Gods attention. And that's not going to be fun for Lucifer _or_ Cas."

"Oh my God," Jody said quietly.

"Quite literally, I'm afraid," Crowley sighed. He stood, sitting his glass down. "I'll leave you to it," he told the boys as he stood. "I've got a witch to kill."

"Don't kill her," Dean said, and Crowley gave him his best 'I-wasn't-asking' look.

"Rowena spent time with Amara, she might know something we don't," Sam agreed. "You wanna do something, try and find a way to convince her she needs us. We'll keep an eye out for her, too."

"I'll make no promises should she start something," Crowley replied, heading for the door. Sara followed, glancing at him as they reached the door.

"Who's Rowena?" she asked, frowning.

"No one you need to worry about, darling," Crowley promised, kissing her forehead. "Stay in the bunker. Lucifer may be indisposed at the moment but he's as manipulative as they come. No telling what he might convince Amara to do."

"Be careful," Sara told him, and he squeezed her shoulder before leaving.


	26. Chapter 26

Loud rock music blared from Claire's room. The door was locked, which didn't surprise Gavin much. He sighed, and knocked again.

"Claire, let me in," he called.

After a few moments of no answer, he shook his head, pulling a credit card out of his pocket and using it to jimmie the door open.

Claire didn't look at him. She was curled up on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees and face buried against them. Gavin closed the door behind him and turned the music down, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It's not their fault," Claire said quietly after a moment. "I know that. I just wanted someone to blame."

"Blame the Darkness," Gavin glanced at her. "Blame Lucifer."

"I blame God," Claire replied. "He doesn't care about us. Any of us. If he did, Cas would be fine. My parents would be alive. Alex would be with her mom and dad and Sara's mom would still be alive . . ." she sniffed. "I'm bitter and angry but I love my family. I do. I love Jody and Alex and Sara and the boys and everyone. And I'm so grateful for everything they've done. But things could be so different."

"You can't let the 'what if's' run your life. What if I'd gotten on that boat? What if Castiel hadn't come back into your life? All these questions are just things that can't be answered. So we've got to concentrate on the present."

Claire sat up, crossing her legs and glancing towards him. "Why do you have to be so philosophical? It makes me look bad."

"Makes me look smart," Gavin grinned.

"You're not allowed to be attractive and smart," Claire said lowly, her eyes glancing over his and towards is lips.

"Did you just admit that I'm attractive?" Gavin asked quietly, leaning in closer.

"Did you think I thought you weren't?"

"I just wanted to make sure I heard right." Their faces were so close, their noses and cheeks were almost touching. Claire could feel his breath and her heart raced.

"I have to tell you something," Gavin whispered.

Her heart beat even faster, if possible. "Okay," she whispered back.

Gavin grinned. "I still think the Beatles are better than the Stones."

Claire pulled away, rolling her eyes and punching his shoulder. He laughed and grabbed his shoulder, rubbing it as Claire stood.

"Come on," she said, wiping any remaining tears from her face. "Let's go. I gotta do damage control."

* * *

 _My Dear Sara,_

 _Watching you play is the highlight of my day. Though I admit it worries me some that you don't play with the other children in the park, you seem so very content to play on your own. You're so creative! I love making flower crowns with you – your favorite flowers are carnations, especially the red ones._

 _They're your father's favorite, too. He used to bring me huge bouquets of white carnations whenever he would visit. I do miss him. You're starting to look like him a bit – you have his eyes. More so you look like your grandmother._

 _She stopped by a few days ago and I must admit I'm glad to see her go. Please don't think me a terrible person but she's quite unsettling. I don't think she's even seen your father in . . . well, in a very long time. We'll talk about that more when you're older. How she found out about you, I haven't a clue. She wanted you to go with her, she said she could offer you 'more'. Perhaps it was selfish of me but I simply can't let you go. You're my whole world, sweet heart. Whatever would I do without you?_

 _I try to write to you as often as I can. I hope maybe one day I can give you this diary on your sixteenth birthday! It will definitely be full by then – I may need a few more journals! But now it's time for us to have our lunch, and I packed your favorites._

 _Mummy loves you, Sara. And Daddy does, too. I promise we'll all be together one day._

 _All my love,_

 _Mum._

Sara had read the pages over and over again. Every time she read one of her mother's ramblings or stories, she could picture her, sitting on a park bench while Sara played close by. The sun was shining and she feel the warmth of it. It was a wonderful thought, one Sara clung to when she was missing her mother.

She sat up from her bed, yawning. It was past midnight and she was starting to feel drowsy. She stretched, laying the diary on her nightstand, then sighing when it slid off the nightstand and onto the floor.

She swooped down to pick it up, frowning when she noticed that the back cover of the diary had a slit in it, with the corner of something poking out. She found that the cover lifted, and she blinked in surprise when she found a small stack of memorabilia. There was a picture of a newborn baby, wrapped in a dark pink blanket, curly red hair pressed against her head under her hat. It took Sara a moment to realize it was her – she'd never seen a picture of herself as a baby. Her mother was always taking pictures, but when she died, everyone was taken from the apartment by the landlord – the only thing that had been given to Sara was a suitcase of clothes, a pillow, and a toothbrush. She'd managed to grab a few photos of her mother but didn't have time to search for anything else.

Under the picture of baby Sara was, to Sara's surprise, a photo of Crowley. He wasn't aware of the photo being taken, apparently, as he sat on a park bench, probably waiting for Regina.

There were several other photos, too – all of Sara, some with Regina in them.

Under the photos were a few other bits and pieces – a pink ribbon Sara wore in her hair in some of the photos, a dried, white carnation. Sara frowned, though, then she found a small business card – Hyde Park Private Detective Agency. Why would her mother need a private detective? To look for her father?

She put the card aside – she'd call tomorrow. They might not even still be open – it had been almost 12 years, after all.

Yet, as she lay down, she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.


	27. Chapter 27

Jody finished folding her clothes into her dufflebag, sighing and turning to look at the girls. Claire was spinning in the desk chair, and Alex was helping Jody pack. Sara was nowhere to be found – she'd be quiet at breakfast, and seemed thoroughly disappointed when Jody had told her that Sam was out hunting with Dean. She had retreated to her room, muttering about "college researching." Jody suspected she was feeling guilty over Castiel's situation – Sara seemed to think if she had agreed to help Lucifer, he may have beat Amara before she got too powerful. Despite the reassurance that this wasn't the case from her father, Jody, and the Winchesters, the teen still seemed distracted.

"I hate leaving like this," Jody huffed as she zipped her bag. "Especially since I don't trust you. No offense."

"None taken, we're pretty untrustworthy," Claire admitted. "But we're not going anywhere. My shoulder is killing me,and Sara's hands are still healing. Besides, with Delightful Demon Dad popping in and out, we wouldn't get far."

"Well, you've got a point," Jody agreed begrudgingly. "I really do want to stay though – I like taking care of you girls."

"You've got a town to run," Alex pointed out. "If you stay away for too long, Sioux Falls will fall apart."

Jody gave an amused little smile. "Alright," she sighed, picking up her bag. "Call me every few hours, and stay inside. I packed up some leftovers in the fridge, you just have to heat them up. The boys should be back by Tuesday. If you can't get a hold of me, call Donna. If it's an emergency call the boys or Crowley." She hesitated, biting her pinkie nail, trying to think of any other last minute details.

"Go," Alex urged gently. "We'll be fine. Promise."

Jody didn't look convinced, and Claire sighed.

"Look, we already have plans for the day," she said, standing. "Gavin and Roland went to Singers to pick up the Chevelle. Dean's idea to keep me out of trouble."

"I'm going to install some security cameras around the bunker and set up a system that will directly link them to some monitors in the basement. I'll probably hack into local traffic cameras and connect them, too," Alex added.

"And Sara . . ."

Alex and Claire looked at each other, hesitating. Honestly, they had no idea what was up with Sara. She'd been holed up in her room, of course, and wasn't one for conversation at the moment.

"Sara . . ." Claire started again, searching her brain for a white lie she could tell Jody to appease her.

"Sara's cleaning." Everyone look started as they looked towards the door, where Sara, carrying a large box, had paused. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and was struggling under the weight of the box.

"Whatcha got there?" Claire asked hesitantly.

"Who knows?" Sara replied, voice chipper. "There's an entire room downstairs across from the dungeon full of these old boxes. There could be all sorts of fascinating things left over from the Men of Letters."

She continued down the hall, and after exchanging glances, Alex, Claire, and Jody followed.

Sara sat the box down on the floor, shoving some pieces of stray hair behind her ear before unfolding the top and delving into the contents.

"You okay?" Jody asked, frowning.

"What? Yeah. Fine," Sara replied, pulling some wooden boxes out of the box and stacking them neatly. "Just, you know. Keeping busy."

"You're stir crazy," Jody remarked.

"No," Sara argued. "No, just sick of sitting around doing nothing."

Jody knew there was nothing she could do to unwind her. She tried to stifle a sigh and leaned down, kissing the top of Sara's head. "Easy on your hands," she reminded her, and Sara nodded.

Not long after Jody left, Claire's curiosity was piqued, and she was helping Sara unload boxes. Soon the entire downstairs room had been cleared out, boxes surrounding them upstairs. After Sara received a text from Jody a few hours later, informing her that she was home safely, Sara stood.

"What's up?" Claire asked.

"I had to make sure Jody was gone. Alex, are those cameras working?" Sara called, heading towards the basement. Frowning, Claire scrambled to stand and follow after her.

"Yep, you're good to go," Alex replied, turning to glance at them as they entered the room. Several monitors had been hung on the wall, showing multiple rooms inside the Bunker, the outside areas, and the garage. In the corner, traffic cams flickered.

"Sick setup," Claire admitted. "But I feel like there's something I don't know here. Why are you guys being all secretive?"

"Well we would have told you about this earlier, but you were spending so much time with my brother," Sara said innocently.

"Hey, I –"

"I'm joking with you. I had an idea earlier and Alex had the same idea."

"It's about honing our skills," Alex agreed. "We have the shooting range and weapons and stuff to practice with, but there's still so much about Sara's powers that we don't know about. So she needs her own space to practice."

"And that's why we spent the day cleaning out a creepy old storage room?" Claire raised her eyebrows. "Why not just use the living room? There's more space, and less asbestos."

Sara and Alex hesitated. "Some of the tests I want to put myself through aren't really things I want Sam and Dean – or Jody, for that matter – knowing about."

"I'm not a big fan of this idea, either," Claire frowned, crossing her arms.

"Please, I'm not sacrificing babies or anything," Sara rolled her eyes. "Look, if I'm going to figure out what I can do, I need privacy, where the boys won't gawk."

"We'll start simple," Alex suggested.

"We?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

"You're not doing this alone," Alex replied. "Let us help."

Sara glanced from Alex to Claire, and begrudgingly nodded.

"So let's talk about what we know," Alex suggested as they made their way to the gutted room. It was bare bones, gray concrete floor and brick walls, and a few lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. The only things inside it was a table and a few boxes. "Sara doesn't get stuck in Devil's Traps like a regular demon."

"How do you know?" Sara asked with a frown.

"Right, I forgot. When we first found you, you passed out before we got home," Alex replied. "There's a Devil's Trap painted under Jody's rug – you would have been trapped when you went over it."

"So it can't trap me," Sara confirmed. "But we don't know what sort of affects it might have on me."

"Good point. There's some chalk in that box over there," Alex nodded.

"I got it," Claire said, digging through the box and coming up with a few thick pieces of chalk. She went to work on the concrete floor.

"While she works on that, we can go as basic as it gets," Alex continued, and Sara raised an eyebrow in question. Alex held up an old book. "Exorcism."

Sara shrugged, leaning against the table and crossing her arms. "Alright. Hit me."

Alex hesitated for a moment, before flipping to a marked page and clearing her throat. " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii . . ._ " she glanced up at Sara, who hadn't budged. "Anything?"

Sara shook her head. "Nothing."

"I wasn't expecting much," Alex admitted. "You were born half demon, there's nothing possessing you to exorcise."

"Trap's finished," Claire said, standing up. "Maybe I should go to art school."

"Come on, that's the worst circle I've ever seen," Alex retorted.

"It's mostly okay," Claire said defensively, mumbling under her breath, "Stupid Sam and Dean making perfect stupid circles every stupid time."

Sara pushed herself off the table and frowned at the circle – it was almost like she could feel it, but not quite. Like the air was vibrating around it. She stepped into it, frowning at the odd sensation.

"Anything?" Claire asked.

"It's tense," Sara admitted, waving her arm through the air. "It's like the air is thick."

"Try moving something," Claire said. She held up the piece of chalk. "Here. Knock this outta my hand."

Sara concentrated all her willpower into moving the chalk, for several long minutes in fact. She strained herself against the pressure around her, but finally let go and stepped back, shaking her head. "I can't. But that doesn't mean anything. I can only move things sometimes."

"But you're not trapped," Alex pointed out as Sara stepped out of the trap, instantly relaxing as the pressure was relieved. "So that's a good thing."

Sara nodded, catching her breath for a moment. "What's next?" she asked, leaning against the cool wall.

"Let's go down the list," Alex said, opening her book again. "Alright . . . iron?"

"I've never had a problem with it," Sara replied. "I've touched it plenty of times."

"Okay . . . salt?"

"Are you kidding?" Claire snorted. "You've seen the amount of salt she puts on her fries!"

"Yeah, you're right," Alex nodded, and Sara looked sheepish.

"How about . . . oh."

"What is it?" Sara asked.

Alex looked concerned. "Erm . . . holy water?"

Sara shook her head. "I've never been in contact with it."

"Sam and Dean keep some upstairs," Claire said hesitantly. "But, I think it's a bad idea. One time I threw some at your dad –"

"What?"

"– and he was _really_ not happy." Claire shook her head. "I think it's a bad idea."

"We won't know until we try," Sara insisted, turning and heading upstairs swiftly.

Claire looked at Alex. "You worried about her?"

"Oh yeah," Alex nodded. "You?"

" _Duh_. Man, she's really beating herself up over this whole Lucifer thing, huh?"

"It's not surprising," Alex admitted. "Sam and Dean are really good at the whole guilty conscious thing. She really looks up to Sam, you know."

"She said that?" Claire frowned.

"Of course not. But think about it, they're a lot alike. They both lost their moms when they were young, they grew up as black sheep. They've both been victimized by Lucifer. They both have daddy issues. Bossy older brothers. He gets her, and she gets him."

"You don't think our little Sara is harboring a crush on Sam, do you?" Claire grinned.

Alex laughed. "Are you kidding? I mean, Sam and Dean are great looking – like _really_ great looking – but come on. They're _Sam and Dean._ "

The girls stared at each other before bursting into laughter, and they were still roaring as Sara reentered the room, holding a jar of clear liquid.

"What's so funny?" she frowned.

"Nothing," Alex said quickly, sobering up. "Claire was just pretending to care about school."

"That _is_ amusing." Sara moved to the table, setting the jar down and unscrewing the lid.

"Right," she said, turning and looking at her foster sisters. She held out her arm, rolling up her sleeve. "Go on, then."

"Whoa, slow down," Alex said, stepping forward. "We're not gonna just pour holy water on you."

"Well we have to see if it works," Sara replied. "Go on."

Claire and Alex glanced at each other nervously.

"One drop," Claire said, moving forward. "And that's it."

Sara nodded, and Claire rolled her own sleeve up, dipping her hand into the water for a moment before moving towards Sara, hand dripping. She glanced at Sara, whose heart was racing. "Ready?"

Sara swallowed and nodded.

Claire hovered her hand above Sara's letting a droplet of water fall from her fingertips before pulling her hand away.

The moment the water made contact with her skin, there was a sharp sizzling sound and steam rising off Sara's arm. She hissed and grabbed the spot, ignoring the dull throbbing in her hands.

"Sara?!" Alex demanded.

"It's fine," Sara ground out, stepping back. She shakily moved her hand, glancing at the skin where the water had come in contact. It was similar to a cigarette burn, round and puckered, as though acid had been dropped on her skin.

"We shouldn't have done that," Alex hissed.

"No," Sara said, taking a breath. "No, it's fine, it's good. Now we know."

They were quiet for several moments, before Alex said quietly, "I think that's enough for today."

The others agreed, and started to gather their things.

"You guys go ahead," Sara told them. "I'm going to do some organizing down here."

Claire and Alex bot knew that was a nice way of saying she wanted to be alone, so they agreed, and headed upstairs to scrounge up some dinner. Sara, meanwhile, stacked a couple of boxes. She balanced some beer bottles on the boxes and stepped back, taking a deep breath. She remembered the power she'd felt while in the presence of the Hand of God – the way she was able to move things with a thought, how she'd crushed that lock like it was nothing. She could feel her abilities inside of her, but she couldn't get it to listen to her.

So maybe she should try listening to it.

She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander to where it wanted to go. For whatever reason, it went to the very back of her mind, to a memory. She and her mother were walking in the park, and Sara ran ahead towards the duck pond. Her mother smiled as she followed, picnic basket in hand. Sara giggled in excitement, small legs carrying her quickly, until she bumped into something – someone. She glanced up, finding that she'd run into a tall, frightening looking man, in a long coat and a hat. Intimidated, Sara scrambled backwards. The man glanced at her, and even at four years old, Sara could tell something about him was wrong. His eyes frightened her, seeming to glow for a moment, before he smirked and looked away, strolling away casually. Regina's eyes followed him, her beautiful face pulled down in a suspicious frown . . .

Sara was startled back into the presence as the bottles burst, exploding shards of glass. All three had seemingly shattered at the same time, and Sara felt exhausted by the wave of power she had unwittingly emitted. Though she'd only meant to knock the bottles over, she wasn't entirely displeased with her results, but she was definitely more than a little concerned.

She rubbed the burn on her arm self-consciously, frowning at the broken glass, and wondering why she'd just remembered something that had been buried for years.


	28. Chapter 28

**A short teaser chapter of what's to come. See you all soon and remember to rate and review!**

* * *

Rock music blared from the ancient radio in the garage around two in the morning the next night, along with the steady sound of a wrench turning from under the Chevelle. The clinking noises ceased as Claire froze, hearing the garage doors open and the Impala's engine rumble in. She went back to work after making sure it was just the boys. A few moments later, she heard the car doors open and slam shut, and then heavy footsteps approaching her.

She slid out from under the Chevelle as Dean approached, and she stood, grabbing a rag and wiping the oil and rust and grease from her hands.

"Little late to be working," Dean remarked.

"Can't sleep," she replied, lifting a cola bottle to her lips.

"How's she coming?" Dean asked, looking the car over. He leaned over the open hood, looking surprised. He whistled lowly. "Damn. LS3-402 engine?"

"It's in good shape, huh?" Claire said proudly, looking at the engine she had scrounged the internet for. "Had Gavin pick it up on his way back from Sioux Falls. Looks like your man Bobby replaced the transmission right before he . . . passed."

"Yeah, he loved this car," Dean said, running his hand over the top of the car. "Always wanted to fix her up, paint her. He just never had any time." He glanced at Claire. "What's left on her?"

"Besides for a fresh coat of paint? Just the interior, mostly. Needs to be re-carpeted and re-upholstered. But she runs."

"I'll be the judge of that," Dean retorted, and Claire grinned.

"Alright, Winchester," she said, grabbing the keys from her bag and sliding into the drivers seat. Dean opened the passenger side door, the familiar creaking a comfort to him as he slid onto the worn seat. He'd spent quite a few miles in this car when he was a kid, and it felt odd to be back in the car after so many years.

The engine practically purred, sounding better than it had in years. Its rumble competed with that of the Impala, and Dean found himself stifling a grin as Claire tore out of the garage, turning the radio up to find it left on Bobby's favorite station, a Willie Nelson song crooning through the aged speakers.

And for once, as Dean rolled down the window and let himself relax as Claire cruised down the highway, worries behind them for the time being.

* * *

Sara was up early, around seven the next morning. She had dressed quickly, in a pair of worn jeans and a sweater, throwing her hair into a ponytail before heading for the kitchen. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake her sisters, and started brewing some coffee as she opened the news app on her tablet. She sat at the table, enjoying her coffee as she skimmed through the news.

She heard soft footsteps and glanced up, surprised to see Sam. He was obviously surprised to see her, too, as he looked a little embarrassed at his appearance – he was wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and was barefoot. His hair was a wreck, and he knew it, as he immediately tried to smooth it out – he didn't even like Dean seeing his bed head.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat as he moved towards the coffee pot. He glanced at her as he poured some into a mug. "You're up early."

"It's been a . . . stressful few days," Sara admitted. "I didn't know you were back. Where's Dean?"

"Asleep," Sam said, moving to sit at the table. "Claire got the Chevelle running, so they were out joyriding half the night."

"Makes sense – Claire's snoring is so loud, I thought she was being attacked by a bear," Sara said, and Sam smiled. "How was the case?"

"Really weird. People turning into cicadas. Long story," Sam replied, taking a drink of coffee. "What did you girls get into while we were gone?"

"We just cleared some things out of a storeroom," she replied, rolling her mug between her hands. "We found lots of things, some of it might really come in handy. Old Men of Letters logs, records. A really cool katana that Claire called dibs on."

Sam smiled, and glanced at her hands. "You healing okay?"

"I should be able to take the bandages off tomorrow," Sara said, glancing at the thick gauze. "They're mostly just stiff. I'm more worried about Claire's shoulder – it keeps swelling off and on, probably because she won't give it a break."

"I'll have Dean say something to her – she listens to him. Sometimes." They grinned at each other, and continued to drink their coffee in silence for several moments.

"Sam," Sara said after a moment, pushing some stray hair behind her ear. "I was wanting to ask you about something. It's sort of private, but I think you might be able to help me."

Sam frowned. "Sure, Sara. I'll do what I can."

Sara took a breath. "While I was looking through my mother's journal a few days ago, I found something. A business card – it was for a private detective agency. I thought perhaps she used them to try and find my father. But I called them. And I got an answer."

Sam's frown deepened as he noticed Sara struggling to continue. She glanced at him, and he nodded for her to go on.

"The man who answered retired a few years ago, but he remembered my mum's case. She thought she was being followed by someone, so she hired the detective to find out who it was. The detective was able to confirm that someone was following her, but – but he never got a good look at him. Just a glimpse."

Sam was suddenly very nervous – he knew where this was going. _She's smart,_ he thought. _Really smart._

"What did he look like?" Sam asked quietly, without looking at her – he already knew the answer, but there was one little shred of hope in him that he was wrong.

"He was . . . tall," Sara continued. "Usually he wore a long coat, and a hat that hid most his face. But, there was something . . . odd, the detective said. His eyes . . ." she took a shaky breath, eyes growing a bit wet. "Two weeks after my mum hired the detective, she was dead."

"Sara . . ." Sam started, having no idea how to go about this.

"And then," Sara continued. "The other night, I had this memory. It was so . . . vivid, I think I triggered it with my powers. And in this memory, I saw him, too. The man, the one following my mother. And I saw his eyes. They were . . ." she swallowed, feeling very nervous.

"Yellow," Sam said quietly, and Sara looked at him, eyes wide. Sam's face was a mask of emotion – he was concerned for Sara, but his face was a mixture of pain and exhaustion. He looked at Sara. "His eyes were yellow. Weren't they?"

Sara was shocked, but she nodded silently.

Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Sara, I'm so sorry, but – Dean and I haven't been completely honest with you."


	29. Chapter 29

Sara sat at the table in the main room, fidgeting nervously. She had an odd feeling, one of dread and fear – she immediately wished for the comfort of her father or Jody.

After surprising her with his response to the yellow-eyed man, Sam had asked Sara to give him a few minutes and to meet him at the table. She sat there now, tapping her fingers on her lap nervously as she waited for him to come back. She'd said something that really bothered him – that much was obvious. Sam had looked extremely nervous, and even afraid.

She glanced up as Sam entered the room, this time with Dean. Sam had gotten dressed, and he must have woken Dean as well – he looked groggy, but also very grim. She noticed the lines under his eyes growing more defined by the day, which worried her, but now she was distracted - he had a thick, leather bound journal in his hand.

"Have I said something?" Sara asked nervously. "I didn't mean to offend you . . ."

"No, Sara, it's nothing like that," Sam was quick to gently reassure her. "This is something we should have talked to you about as soon as we found out. But your dad thought it was a bad idea."

"My dad?" Sara frowned. It was clear that the Winchesters and her father very rarely agreed on anything – ever. If they'd talked about whatever this was, and reached a peaceful agreement, it must be bad.

"What exactly do you know about your mother's death?" Dean asked, sitting across from her. Sam sat beside him, running his hands through his hair as though trying to distract himself long enough while he came up with something to say.

"Not a lot," Sara admitted. "The social worker told me it was an animal attack. But . . ." she hesitated.

"Go on," Sam urged her gently.

"That always felt . . . wrong," Sara continued. "My mother didn't work near any woods. She worked at a restaurant. Her car never even moved from its parking space there. How could she have gotten to a forest?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other for a moment, seeming to silently agree on something. They turned back towards her.

"Sara, your mother wasn't killed by an animal," Sam started.

Sara's heart pounded – deep down, she'd always known that. But to hear it now, out loud and from Sam, she could feel her mouth go dry and her stomach twist up in knots.

"She was killed by a demon," Dean continued. "Called Azazel."

If Sam had looked upset before, Dean's apparent anger surpassed it. Sara wanted to ask about it, but she was stunned – a demon had not been the answer she'd been expecting.

"A demon?" she repeated, eyes wide.

Dean slid the journal around, opening it and flipping it to an obviously worn page. Sara frowned and pulled the journal towards her. The pages were full of notes, maps, and photos. Sara picked one up – it was a different man, but the eyes were unforgettable.

"This is him," she said in a whisper. "This is the man I saw."

Dean frowned. "Wait – you saw him?"

Sara nodded. "Once, when I was a little girl. He was following us, I think. My mother." She shook her head. "This is how you know that this thing, this Azazel, killed her?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other again – Sara really wished they'd stop doing that. It was like they were having an entire conversation without speaking a single word.

"The wounds on your mother were consistent with wounds we'd seen inflicted on others before," Sam said carefully.

"I just don't understand," Sara said, shaking her head. "Why would a demon kill my mother? Surely they would know if my father found out, he'd . . . well, you know how he is."

"Thirteen years ago, Hell was a completely different place," Sam said. "Crowley wasn't in charge there – Lilith was."

Sara's heart almost skipped a beat. "Lilith."

"Lilith was –" Dean started.

"I know who she is," Sara almost spat, and both the brothers looked surprise at her knowledge. "She's the one who wanted me for Lucifer. _She's_ the reason my mother and father couldn't be together."

"Lilith knew about Regina and Crowley?" Sam rose his eyebrows.

"My father couldn't be in my life – in our life – because he was protecting us from Lilith," Sara continued. She took a deep breath. "And this Azazel – he killed my mother."

"If I had to guess, he did it on Lilith's orders," Dean said, crossing his arms. "Get Regina out of the way, it'd be easier to get to you. When you got older, you'd disappear out of the system. No mess, just a missing foster kid."

"But she never came for me," Sara started.

"You're welcome," Dean said, and Sam gave him a _'dude, no,'_ kinda glare.

"Dean and I . . . might have started stirring up some trouble for the demons not long after that," Sam said sheepishly.

"My mother died . . . so it'd be easier to use me?" Sara said faintly.

"Sara, you can't blame yourself for this," Sam started.

"And Azazel?" she demanded.

"Dead," Dean said shortly.

"I need to be alone." She stood stiffly, walking away swiftly, until she reached the living room. Her legs felt like they'd give out; shaking, she fell onto the couch, laying her head in her hands. Her mind was spinning, and the lights started to flicker in the room. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself enough to keep her powers in check, but her mind was still racing.

Regina died for no reason other than to make it easier to get to Sara. Sara had refused to help Lucifer and now Cas was being tortured. Alex, Gavin, and Claire had been hurt in that fight with Lucifer.

Ever since she'd found out who she was, she'd tried to tell herself she wasn't a freak, she wasn't a monster. She was special. Different. Worth something. But she wasn't – she was toxic.

"Hey."

She looked up, startled, to see Sam. Sara swallowed and tried to wipe away the hot tears that were steadily starting to sting her eyes. She turned pink with embarrassment – she hated feeling weak, and she definitely didn't want to seem like it in front of the boys.

Sam sat on the couch beside her, holding something in his hands. "I, uh, wanted to show you something," he started.

Sara sat up, wiping her face once more, as he held out a photograph to her. Frowning, she took it, examining it. It was old, faded and a bit tattered, as though someone spent a lot of time folding and unfolding it. The photo showed a family of four – a man, maybe in his thirties, holding a little toe-head toddler who was clutching a toy fire engine and wearing his father's too big baseball hat. He was grinning, and so was his father. A beautiful, smiling blonde woman was holding a newborn baby in her arms.

"Who are they?" Sara sniffed, eyes moving over the photo.

"Well," Sam took a breath, and pointed at the man in the photo. "That's my dad . . ." he moved to the toddler. "And that's Dean. This is me," he said, pausing over the infant. He swallowed. "And this," he said, pointing at the woman. "Is my mother."

Sara examined the woman. Sara was reminded of her mother – the kind eyes, the beautiful smile . . .

Sara sniffed again, handing him the photo. "It's a lovely photo, Sam. Your mother looks wonderful."

"Yeah, I think she was," Sam said, taking the photo and gently setting it aside. "But I never got to know her myself. When I was six months old, she was killed." He glanced at Sara, obviously having difficulty talking about it. "By the yellow-eyed demon."

Sara took a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Sam . . ."

"The reason I knew it was him who killed your mother was because I'd seen her wound before. It was the same wound that killed my mother – and my girlfriend, Jess."

Sara didn't know what to say. As she searched for words, Sam continued.

"I told you once that I was infected with demon's blood," he started. "Kinda overwhelmed you with that conversation. But, it was true. When I was six months old, Azazel – on orders from the higher ups – came into my nursery and fed me demon blood. It was so I would grow up with powers and eventually become a vessel for Lucifer. In the process, he killed my mom. Twenty-two years later, he came back. Not long after, Jess was dead."

"Sam, I . . . I'm so sorry."

"Looks like we have a lot in common," he tried for a smile. "Including guilt. Sara, I spent years blaming myself for what happened to mom and Jess. My dad's need for revenge practically destroyed him. There are some things we just can't blame ourselves for. It took me a long time for me to realize that."

"I just . . . it's not fair," Sara said, feeling her eyes well up again. "My mother fell in love. She never committed any crime! And she loved me unconditionally, and because of it, she was killed! If my father had just given me up like he was supposed to –"

"Your mother would have died anyway," Sam cut her off. "We all would have. If Lucifer had got to you before you knew about all this, who knows what could have happened? But one thing is for sure, Sara, he wouldn't have spared Regina. He doesn't do mercy."

Sara tried to stifle a sob, but was unable to. Instead of bottling it up this time, though, she leaned against Sam, burying her head in his shoulder and just letting herself cry. Sam wrapped his arm around her, holding her and rubbing her shoulder as she cried.

"You don't have to do this alone," Sam told her, squeezing her shoulder. "I promise, we'll always be here. _I'll_ always be here. Anything you ever need to talk about, you can come to me, or Dean – any of us. You're family."

"Sam," Sara sniffed, pulling away. "You're always so kind to me. You always have been, since the moment we've met." She squeezed his hand. "Thank you. So much." She leaned over, hugging him. He hugged her back, reminded painfully of Charlie, but hid that pain as she pulled away and stood. She gave a weak smile before retreating to her room.

A few moments later, Dean entered the room. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Sam sighed, running his hand over his face as he stood with a sigh.

"You, uh. You did good with her."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You were listening?"

Dean gave a sheepish half-shrug. "Look man – all that stuff you said, about not blaming yourself? Take your own advice."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Sara's not the only one beating themselves up over this situation with Cas," Dean started, and Sam tried to turn away.

"Sam," Dean sighed.

"Drop it, Dean," Sam retorted, pulling out his phone.

"You can't blame yourself for something Cas willingly did!"

"Cas wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place, if I hadn't gone to Lucifer!" Sam snapped. " _I_ fell for his trap. _I_ went into the Cage. And I should have known not to trust him, or Rowena. But I did it anyway, and now Cas is in a lotta trouble. So I'm not going to guilt over it – I'm going to do something about it."

Dean frowned. "What do you have in mind?"

Sam held his phone up, and Dean read a headline from an online news article:

 _Murder-Suicide in Hope Springs._

"We're going to find Amara," Sam said. "And we're going to _make_ her let Cas go."


	30. Chapter 30

**Wow! Thirty chapters have gone by so fast! Well, to me anyway ;) Now that the story is coming to a close, I'm going to start including flashbacks and other POVs in the story. Part 2 will be coming soon, so I have a question for you readers - would you prefer Part 2 to be continued in this fanfic, or would you prefer me to publish another, separate fanfic for the next part? Let me know in the reviews! Thanks for being so great!**

* * *

 **Hell**

 **Thirteen Years Ago**

The sound of Hell was nothing new. Various sobbing and crying, screaming and cursing, the begging. All the different voices, young and old, male and female – it was the song of Hell, ever playing on repeat for all of time.

The sight of Hell never bothered Crowley, either, he reflected as he strode down the long hallway. A chandelier made of bone and entrails hung from the ceiling. That was new, Crowley admitted, admiring the detail of it. Alistair's little touches certainly made the infernal pit more homey for some of the demons. The tapestry's made from human skin that hung on the walls were pure art, and always an eye catcher – especially to those damned to torture, as they marched to the racks every day, often passing their own skin.

No, it was the _smell_ that always disgusted Crowley. Some of the demons relished in the blood, the sweat, the tears. Crowley was a man of taste. He enjoyed the smell of rich antique furniture, of fine whiskey . . .

The smell of Regina's hair.

He tried to push her from his mind, but she always lingered there. There was a difference between protective and possessive, and Crowley knew which of those titles he sported – not that he cared. Regina was his, and his alone. Was he content to watching her from afar, letting his own child siphon up all Regina's affections? No, of course not. But what could he do? Lilith was a suspicious old bitch, and begrudgingly, Crowley did feel something for the child. Perhaps it was residual guilt after his relationship with his son, Gavin – or maybe it was just that at four years old, the girl was already so much like Regina. He often watched her from afar – even for a toddler, her movements were graceful like her mother, and she was constantly distracted with simple, beautiful things. Flowers, butterflies, all the things Crowley never noticed, and didn't care to.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a woman, her stomach more on the outside of her body than the inside, grabbed at his pants leg, begging for water. Crowley kicked her aside absentmindedly, continuing down the hall. With a wave of his hand, he opened a large, heavy oak door. He entered, relieved to be out of the heat and stench and into a classier room, lined with torches. He took his seat at the table, next to Alistair, who gave a nod of greeting.

"Nice of you to join us," Lilith said coldly from her place at the head of the table. The table was set by rank, with Lilith at the head; Azazel sat to her right, Alistair to her left. Crowley's seat was beside Alistair as usual.

Crowley noticed the demon straight across from him, beside Azazel – she was a young demon, he was fairly sure. Azazel's favorite, and Alistair's apprentice. She'd only been training with Alistair for two hundred years, but she was already one of Hell's best. She'd taken a new meatsuit – a petite blonde thing, not threatening in the least. But then again, she was deceptive in every way. Beside her was Lilith's favorite, Ruby. Crowley knew very little of her – she kept to herself, preferring to answer directly to Lilith. Several lower-tier demons sat at the other end of the table, none of which Crowley concerned himself with – all of his demons, his crossroaders, were out working.

"Apologies," Crowley finally replied to his mistress.

"I take it your duties have been keeping you busy," Lilith retorted icily – she'd been acting cool towards him lately.

"Busier than you," Alistair snickered.

Lilith narrowed her eyes. "Something to say, _scum_?"

It was no secret that Alistair and Lilith had little love for each other. Now, Alistair leaned back in his seat leisurely, crossing his arms and smirking.

"Crowley and his minions have brought in more souls in a month than you have in a decade," Alistair remarked with a wave of his hand. His overly relaxed demeanor only angered Lilith more.

"Careful, Alistair," Lilith retorted. "You're good. But you're not a necessity."

Alistair raised an eyebrow with an infuriating smirk, exchanged a glance across the table with his apprentice, and gestured for Lilith to go on.

Crowley didn't pay much attention to the meeting; blah blah blah Lucifer, blah blah true king, blah blah . . . Same old, day in and day out. Lilith sat so high and mighty on her throne, as though she'd earned it - everything had always been handed to Lilith. Hand picked by Lucifer, pampered and made to think she was special. Crowley wondered who he'd have to go through to get that throne himself - Lilith, of course, and Azazel. They were both completely obsessed with Lucifer and bringing him back, but the true fact of the matter was that most demons were less than thrilled with an angel bossing them would never betray her mistress. But, if he had Alistair backing him, and maybe the apprentice . . .

They were dismissed, and Lilith made a point to walk straight past Crowley without a glance. He narrowed his eyes, uneasy due to her behavior.

"And we thought Abaddon was crazy," Alistair glared after Lilith as well.

"Careful," Crowley reminded him, glancing across the room, towards where Azazel was lingering, ordering around some of his worshipers. "Her fan club will hear you."

"Let them," Alistair waved a hand, unconcerned. "All this talk of Lucifer. It bores me. Hell doesn't need an angel, it needs chaos. Damned be all this 'Lucifer, our one true dark king' bullshit."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Crowley replied. "Some serious spellwork would need to come into play to release Lucifer from his prison. We have time to prepare, if need be. The only thing we have to worry about is Lilith's number one fan stirring up trouble upstairs."

"Wouldn't count on it," Alistair said with a wicked grin. "Azazel's spending most of his time down here. He's got that hunter on his tail, the dad of one of his 'Special Children.' Can't kill him – bastard's outsmarted him every time, and gets closer to getting one over on ol' Azazel every day."

"I ought to send the bloke a gift basket," Crowley muttered, and Alistair gave a chuckle. "I'd have no qualms with Azazel getting taken down a peg – at the least."

"Aww, it almost sounds like you might be a little jealous, Lucky," came the snarky voice of the apprentice, who had sauntered over to them. Her relaxed demeanor, snide confidence, and ever present smirk annoyed Crowley to no end.

"Say something, whore?" Crowley replied, raising an eyebrow. "Run along to your daddy, now; the grown ups are talking."

She arched an eyebrow, mischief in her eyes. "Don't you have to be over five foot to be considered an adult, then?" She asked innocently, cocking her head to the side. Alistair chuckled, and Crowley resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Don't worry, my father won't be around to bully you for a while," she continued, crossing her arms. "Lilith has given him a _very_ important job topside. I'm sure you'll hear all about it."

"The suspense is killing me," Crowley retorted.

"Go easy on my girl, Crowley, she's just loyal is all," Alistair said with an amused grin.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Crowley replied.

"That's a new meatsuit, huh?" Alistair asked the apprentice, glancing her over.

She grinned. "Do you like it? College kid from Andover. I dolled her up a bit. I'm thinking I'll use her name for now on, too – what do you think of 'Meg'?"

"Perhaps you should try something better suited for you," Crowley suggested. "Skank, maybe?"

"Keep up that flirting and I'll have to do something about it," the newly-named Meg winked, laying her hand on Alistair's arm for a moment before sashaying away. "Either way, you can kiss the skank's sweet ass goodbye for a while; I've got some business top side. Don't wait up."

Crowley glared as she left, as always, unable to stand her and her unbothered demeanor.

"One day," he growled, eyes narrowing. "I'm going to _end_ that little pest."

Alistair chuckled again. "You can certainly try, Crowley," he replied. "You can try."

"Azazel is up to something," Crowley said suspiciously. "I don't like the way he and his little follower were watching me."

"I have to admit I don't have an especially good feeling about it myself," Alistair admitted. "If I were you, I'd check up on your consort and your wee little cherub. For the right price, I'll go myself." Crowley didn't trust anyone – all the demons were all backstabbing, selfish, entitled entities who did things only for themselves. Alistair did things differently. He wasn't trustworthy, but he also wasn't untrustworthy. So when Crowley needed help hiding his family, Alistair is who he turned too.

"I can't risk it. I'd lead Lilith right to them," Crowley continued. "Even if wasn't protecting Regina, I won't risk Lilith getting her claws on Sara."

"Feeling a little sentimental, are we?" Alistair narrowed his eyes, but also sneered a bit.

"Hardly. You and I are on the same page, Alistair – we don't want Lucifer running our kingdom. A Cambion is exactly the thing Lilith needs to open the Cage and give Lucifer strength."

"You're right," Alistair begrudgingly admitted after a moment. "We can't risk checking on her. You're positive you've hidden them well enough?"

"I've put every protection spell I know on them, and then some," Crowley replied. "If we're lucky, Azazel will be too busy running from his little hunter friend and rounding up his Children of the Corn to bother with my affairs. In the meantime, I'll bring in more souls."

"Fine by me," Alistair replied, unfolding his arms. "Keeps me busy, at any rate. You keep that girl of yours safe – last thing we need is the devil stirring the pot."


	31. Chapter 31

Alex looked herself over in the mirror, not used to seeing herself like this; she had curled her hair in big waves, and she had even put a little makeup on. She double checked her outfit, it was the nicest thing she had with her – just a basic royal blue sweater and black jeans, but she thought she looked pretty good seeing as her nose was still slightly bruised.

 _This is crazy,_ she thought for the umpteenth time that evening. _I'm having a date with a ghost. I'm certifiably insane._

But then again, her foster sister was half demon, her current guardians were out hunting God's evil sister, and she was raised by vampires. So, by comparison, a romantic movie night with a dead guy wasn't _so_ crazy, right?

She popped the disc into the DVD player – Kevin once mentioned _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ was his favorite movie, and it so happened to be one of the few movies Dean owned.

She paced a bit, nervous, though she wasn't sure why – her and Kevin had been talking and hanging out for months, why should things be different now?

 _Because you kissed,_ she told herself. _Because you have no idea what's going to happen next. Because you're totally in love with him and there's no way you can be together._

She was yanked from her inner turmoil as her phone buzzed. She grabbed it, glancing at the number before answering, heart fluttering.

"Hi," she breathed. "So, I found Dean's movie stash. Had to wade through an ocean of crappy 80's pornos before I got to the good stuff – basically every Harrison Ford movie ever, every season of _Game of Thrones_ , and for some reason, _The Princess Bride_. I figured we'd go with Raiders."

"Alex, listen," Kevin said, and she immediately frowned at his irritated tone. "I'm not coming."

"What?" she sat on her bed, brow furrowing. "Why not?"

"I can't, something came up."

"Well what is it?" she asked. "Maybe I can help –?"

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped, and she could feel electricity crackled through the phone.

They were both very quiet. "It's happening, isn't it?" Alex asked quietly.

"I – I don't know," he said, sounding more panicked now. "I feel powerful, but it's not . . . it's not good anymore. I yelled at my mom last night and – and I almost hurt her. I need to stay away, from both of you."

"I'm not scared of you," Alex replied honestly.

"l am," he retorted. "I have to go, Alex."

"Where?" she swallowed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I just need to avoid you. It's the only way I can keep you guys safe."

"I fought Lucifer, Kevin, I'm not scared of you," she repeated.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I – I need to figure some stuff out." The line went dead, and Alex felt angry tears pricking at her eyes. She wiped at her eyes and sniffed angrily, throwing her hair into a ponytail and cleaning the makeup off her face before grabbing her laptop and taking a deep breath to compose herself. She headed down to the basement, determined to distract herself.

She examined the security cameras – Sam had been thoroughly impressed with the setup, and she was flattered. He'd even helped her up the resolution before leaving with Dean on another hunt.

She frowned, though, when she heard a steady thumping coming from a few doors down. She made her way towards the source of the noise, finding Sara in her little training room. The scene would have been fairly normal – Sara was practicing with a set of throwing knives, each one steadily hitting a large foam target – however, Sara wasn't using her hands. She'd hover her hand over one of the knives, and it would shakily rise into the air. With a swift wave of her hand, the knife would fly across the room towards the target – many had gone wide, missing the target completely, but a few had landed in the outer circles of the target. Sara was sweating steadily, and trembled a little whenever she used her powers.

"You're getting pretty good at that," Alex said.

Sara gave her a small smile over her shoulder. "I found these in one of those boxes we went through – they're lightweight so they're easy to move." She 'threw' the last one, which landed closest to the bullseye so far, in the second closest ring.

Sara smiled with satisfaction before grabbing a towel from the table, dabbing at her face and unscrewing the cap to her water bottle. She frowned when she noticed Alex, eyes downcast and rubbing her arm sheepishly.

"Are you okay?" Sara frowned.

Alex gave a little chuckle. "You just found out your mother was murdered and you're asking if I'm alright?"

"My mother is gone," Sara admitted sadly. "And no matter how, that won't ever change. But you're here now, and you're upset. What's wrong, Alex?"

Alex hesitated, shaking her head. "It's just stupid boy troubles. He, uh – he wants some space and I didn't want to give it to him, but I'll deal."

Sara was very confused, but also could sense that Alex didn't want to talk about it. Instead, she put up her best chipper font. "Gavin and Claire are in the garage working on the car," she said. "Why don't we grab some sodas and go interrupt them?"

Alex gave a small smile. "Yeah, okay."

They made their way into the kitchen, gathering some drinks and making a few sandwiches, before entering the garage. The smell of paint was strong, and it was obvious as to why. Claire and Gavin's faces were covered with masks as they used paint sprayers over the Chevelle. They had covered parts of the car, such as the wheels, headlights, windows, etc, so Alex and Sara couldn't see much of the car besides for the metallic blue that had been freshly applied.

When Claire and Gavin saw them approaching, they stopped, putting the sprayers down and joining them across the garage.

"She's almost finished," Claire reported, taking a soda.

"She's beautiful," Sara smiled. "We made lunch, why don't we eat outside?"

Claire nodded, and they all exited the garage. The weather was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining, and felt amazing on the cooped up teens. They found a spot under a tree and spread out, eating their sandwiches and laughing, distracting themselves.

"How're your hands?" Claire asked Sara as they ate.

Sara made a fist a few times. "Stiff, but they'll be fine. I do wish people would stop asking me that."

"You had borderline third degree burns," Alex reminded her. "It would take normal people months of recovery."

"How are you all?" Sara asked, changing the subject. "Claire, your shoulder? And your nose, Alex?"

"The bruising is almost gone. Still a little tender to the touch," Alex said, gingerly touching her nose.

"Just stiff," Claire agreed, rolling her shoulder.

"Gavin?" Sara asked.

Gavin shrugged. "Concussions and busted ribs are nothing to me, lass. I've been in a lotta bar brawls over the years."

"Good thing you have such a thick head," Claire retorted. Their hands were close together, pinkies touching, and Alex and Sara exchanged an amused glance. Gavin and Claire thought they were sneaky, but it was obvious they were getting closer.

Sara suddenly doubled over, gasping and clutching her head. She tried to take deep gulps of air as the sharp intense pain swept through her body.

"Sara!" Gavin exclaimed, and Alex reached out, holding Sara as her body spasmed.

Sara was silent for several long, tense moments before gasping and sitting up, eyes bloodshot and body shaking.

"What the hell just happened?" Claire demanded.

"It's Lucifer," she breathed, pulling herself together. "I heard him – he's calling for help."

"Oh, my God," Alex said quietly.

"What is she doing to him that's so bad even you could feel it?" Claire asked in a panic. "Is Cas hurt?"

"All I heard was him screaming," Sara said, shaking her head.

"I don't understand – why could you hear it?" Gavin frowned.

"He must be reaching out," Sara shook her head, trying to make since of things. "To demons, angels – anyone who will listen."

As if on cue, Sara's cell phone buzzed, and her father's phone number popped up.

"Dad," she answered. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," he replied. "And I was afraid you had, too. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just startled me," she lied. "What's going on? What is Amara doing to him?"

"If I had to guess, I would say Amara is throwing the book at him, trying to force Lucifer into reaching out to God."

Sara stood, taking a few steps away while Gavin and Alex tried to comfort Claire. "Is Lucifer is in enough pain to ask for help, he must be desperate."

"Yes, but not desperate enough to reach out to the Lord Almighty himself. Unfortunately any demon or angel that attempts to assist him will be decimated by Amara."

Sara hesitated. "If Lucifer is in that much pain, can Castiel feel it, too?"

"I can't say for sure. But there's a strong chance, yes."

Sara took a deep breath. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Absolutely not," her father replied sharply. "Even if there were, I wouldn't let you near Lucifer, let alone Amara. Castiel will have to fend for himself."

"Dad . . ." was now the time? Should she bring up that she knew about Azazel, and Lilith? She glanced back at Claire, who was insisting she was fine, and decided against it. She could speak with him about it later.

"Just . . . be careful," she continued.

"Of course, darling. Stay in the Bunker."

He hung up, and Sara returned to her friends. "We should go inside," she said.

They agreed, and entered the Bunker again, frowning when they heard voices from inside.

"Someone's in here," Alex whispered.

"That's impossible," Claire shook her head. "I didn't see anyone arrive; we would have seen them while we were outside."

Gavin withdrew his .45 from his jacket pocket and turned the safety off. "Stay here."

"Like hell," Claire said, shoving past him and storming into the War Room.

Surprisingly, who they thought were intruders was actually Sam and Dean – and they weren't alone. A middle aged man was with them, and so was . . .

Alex's eyes widened, and she took a step forward. "Kevin?"


	32. Chapter 32

_"Kevin?"_

Alex repeated his name as she stared at him, eyes wide. She wasn't unused to seeing him, of course, but seeing him now . . . standing there, in the bunker, with Sam and Dean and a man she'd never seen before, it was impossible. Sam and Dean, of course, looked just as shocked as Alex was to see the young former prophet.

He gave a small, guilty smile. "Hey, Alex."

"What're you doing here?" she asked, stepping towards him.

He shook his head. "I – I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Find out what? What's going on?" she demanded.

"How the hell do you two –?" Dean started, but the stranger raised his hand.

"Let them say goodbye," the man said.

"Goodbye?" Alex looked at Kevin.

"Alex, I'm moving on," Kevin said.

Alex blinked, a wave of emotion crashing over her – _on_. He was moving on? Part of her wanted to be happy for him, but the selfish part of her wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him not to go. To stay here, with her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a shaky breath.

"That's why you didn't come earlier," she realized. "Because you were getting ready to move on."

"I already said goodbye to my mom," he continued. "You've already been going through so much lately, I didn't want to upset you."

"This is a little upsetting," Alex admitted.

"Alex," he said again. He looked as sad as she did, which confused her – if she were moving on, she would feel elated to be out of the world she was stuck in. "I don't want to go – I want to stay with my mom, and with you. I – I'm not ready to die. But I already did, and if I don't go . . ." he lingered on his words, and they both knew exactly what would happen. All spirits had a big chance of going vengeful eventually.

"Kevin," the man said. "It's time."

Kevin nodded, stepping back. He looked at the Winchesters. "I'll miss you guys." Then he glanced back at Alex. She stifled a sob, biting her lip and trying to keep the tears from falling. She stretched her hand out to him. He smiled back and reached towards her, their fingertips brushing as he started to fade away.

"I love you," she whispered hoarsely.

His smiled widened. "I know."

She almost wanted to laugh at him, in the moment where she needed a smile most, as he confirmed his love for her by quoting a Harrison Ford movie of all things.

She couldn't keep from weeping as she watched him fade out of existence, entering a blindingly bright light. She felt Claire coming up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Alex laid her head against her sister's shoulder, letting herself cry.

"We need answers," Dean said sharply, unsettled by one of the girls being hurt in any way whatsoever.

"I agree," Claire retorted. "Who is this guy?"

"He's God."

Everyone glanced at Sara, who was looking down at herself in alarm – her veins were glowing the same eerie red and gold it had while in the presence of a Hand of God. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she looked back up at them, body trembling.

Sam and Dean were in shock, too. "What the hell," Dean asked, eyes wide. "Sara, what –?"

"She's right," the man replied with a casual shrug and a nod. "Come here – let me just, turn that off for you . . ." he laid one finger over the pulse of her wrist, and the glow slowly ebbed away. Sara stared at him in shock.

"It's a manufacturing glitch, you know," He – God – tried to explain himself. "Cambions and Nephilims both tend to do that in the presence of, well, me."

"And things you've touched, as well," Sara said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah, about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you here to rescue Lucifer?" Claire demanded, still holding the shell-shocked Alex.

"Claire, I think we should let Sam and Dean talk with . . . um, the Lord," Gavin started.

"Call me Chuck," God said.

Gavin blinked. "Um, right . . . come on, girls."

Reluctantly, they followed him towards the bedrooms, where Claire and Sara put Alex to bed. Claire sat with her as Alex laid in bed, staring against the wall, and stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry," Claire said quietly. "I knew there was someone . . . I get why you didn't tell us now. Alex, I'm so sorry."

Alex took a shaky breath, relieving a sob.

"Try and sleep," Claire said, leaning down and kissing her cheek. She swallowed the lump of pain in her throat, heart aching for her sister, as she joined Gavin and Sara in her room.

"She's resting," Claire sighed, shutting the door behind her.

"I can't imagine . . ." Sara shook her head. "Poor Alex."

"Alex is strong," Claire replied. "She'll make it through this. We'll help her. But right now, are we gonna talk about the fact that freaking _God_ is in the living room?!"

"There's no proof he's God," Gavin argued.

"Except for what he just did to me," Sara argued as well.

Gavin ran a hand over his face. "What's he doing here? Is he going to take on the Darkness?"

"You mean his bitchy sister? We can hope," Claire said, crossing her arms.

"So, what do we do 'til then?" Gavin continued.

"Play host to God," Sara shrugged. "I don't know if I should call my father about this or not."

"Why wouldn't we?" Gavin frowned.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Gavin, I love father. I do. But he's still King of Hell. I'm not really sure if there can be a positive reaction from demons hearing that God is back in town. I'll talk to Sam and Dean and see what they think . . ." She hesitated, stepping into the hallway and glancing into the war room. God – Chuck – was sitting on the table, strumming a guitar, trying to come up with a word that rhymed with 'beige.' Sara grimaced and stepped back into Claire's room.

"Tomorrow," she finished.

* * *

"Good, keep yours fists up . . . feet apart . . . alright, hit me."

Sara hesitated, taking a breath before producing a forceful right cross towards Sam's face.

He caught her by the shoulder, holding her in place, and used his foot to sweep her feet out from under her. Sara landed hard on her back, thankful for the mat that had been spread out on the ground.

Sam frowned. "That was . . . good." He offered his hand.

Sara grabbed it with one hand, then wrapped her other hand around his wrist, yanking his arm and pulling him off balance as she rolled out of the way, releasing his hand to grab his ankle, pull it out from under him, and then slam her foot against the back of his foot, sending him crashing to the ground.

Sam laughed as he rolled onto his back. "Damn. I wasn't expecting that."

"Lots of self-defense and kickboxing classes," Sara grinned, but stopped when Sam jumped up impossibly fast and grabbed her around the waist, tackling her to the ground. Sara struggled under his weight, pulling her knees up and slamming her feet against his stomach, loosening his grip enough push him onto his side, where she rolled onto him, trying to hold him down. But Sam was big, and pushed her off easily, pinning her to the ground and holding her wrists down.

"Years of living with Dean," he explained with a grin, before standing and letting Sara up.

"You're really not too bad. You're a strong fighter," he told her as Sara took a drink of water.

"Claire taught me some new moves, too," she admitted. "She's practicing with Dean. Usually Alex spars with us too, but . . ." she trailed off with a sigh. Sam and Sara sat on the mat for a long, quiet moment.

"I had no idea about Kevin," Sam admitted, taking a drink.

"Who was he, exactly?" Sara frowned, pushing back some hair that had come loose from her bun.

"He was a really good friend," Sam started, pushing his hair back off his face. "But he was just a kid. He found out he was a prophet and we ended up crossing paths. He was kinda caught in a constant tug-of-war between us and . . . well, your dad. Unfortunately, Kevin was murdered by an angel." Sam swallowed. "Who happened to be possessing me."

Sara didn't know what to say. Just when it seemed as though Sam's life couldn't be any harder, he revealed something else about himself.

"Then," Sam continued. "Kevin came back as a ghost. He's attached to a ring that's in his mother's possession, so he travels with her. Sometimes his mom, Linda, stops in to stay with Jody while traveling, so I guess him and Alex just clicked."

"How romantic," Sara said, and Sam gave her an odd look. Sara blushed. "I mean, it's like a tragic epic, you know? It's practically Shakespearean. Two young people with tragic backgrounds fall in love, but even more tragically can never be together. It's beautiful. But also very heart wrenching. I can never begin to imagine how poor Alex must be feeling."

She began unwrapping the athletic tape from her hand, oblivious to the way Sam was staring at her. Her thought process was so similar to his own it was often eerie. Dean wasn't kidding when he called her 'Mini Sam' – where Claire was so similar to Dean, Sara and Sam shared an abundance of traits. He had an extremely hard time believing her father was Crowley, who was about as far from Sam as anyone. He had to admit, it was nice to have someone who understood. Though young, Sara was someone Sam could confide in. Dean was his brother, and his best friend – but there were some things Sam couldn't talk about with him.

He wondered for a moment if this is what having a younger sibling was like.

Sara glanced at Sam, noticing his staring. She frowned. "What?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "You're the last thing I'd expect from a half demon teenage girl."

Sara grinned. "I do hope that was a compliment."

Sam chuckled again, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you alright?" Sara asked, tilting her head.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." Then he ran his hand down over his face, shaking his head again. "Actually, no. I'm not. Dean had a vision or a hallucination or something last night. It was Amara."

"The Darkness?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

Sam nodded. "She's totally fixated on him. She showed him Lucifer. He's not doing well under whatever pressure Amara's got him under. I'm worried about my brother, and Cas, too."

"What will you do?" Sara asked hesitantly.

He didn't get a chance to answer as Dean arrived in the doorway, phone in hand and face grim. "We've got something," he said lowly.


	33. Chapter 33

"So Sam and Dean left us here with God himself to go meet with a transformer?"

Alex rolled her eyes at Claire, arms full of books as she slid them into their spots on the shelves. " _Meta_ tron, not _Mega_ tron. He's an angel. Or was. I think."

"Either way," Sara sighed from her spot at the table as she flipped through a few books of her own. "It feels more like we're babysitting than 'keeping an eye on the Bunker.'"

"The Bunker keeps an eye on _us_ ," Alex muttered.

Claire cocked her head towards Alex, watching her for a moment. "Hey," she cleared her throat. "You okay?"

"Fine," Alex said, far too quickly for it to be believable. "Just, you know. Wanna get this place cleaned up a bit."

"Alex, c'mon, you're allowed to have feelings," Claire tried to tell her.

"I just don't want to talk about it," Alex retorted, and Claire piped down.

Sara knew that Alex wasn't even remotely okay – her eyes were puffy and she hadn't brushed her hair in two days. But Sara couldn't possibly judge her – she knew loss, and how much it hurt. If Alex wanted to talk about it, she'd come to them. Until then, Sara busied herself making her tea and handing out the chores Alex so desperately wanted.

Sara's vision was blurring together after staring at the dusty, repetitive pages of the book in front of her so long. She sighed, shutting it. "Let's take a break and have some dinner. Has anyone seen Gavin?"

"He went to get groceries," Claire replied, laying her books on the table and checking her phone. "He should be back soon."

"I'll get started on dinner, then," Sara said, standing. She headed towards the sparkling clean kitchen – courtesy of Alex – and opened the fridge, mind wondering as she began to prepare some grilled cheese. Sam and Dean had seemed to think this Metatron would have some information on Amara – and therefore Lucifer. Sara had asked what would happen once Lucifer had been found. Sam and Dean had looked at each other, held one of those silent Winchester Brother conversations Sara loathed so much, and said that they'd "cross that bridge when they came to it." Then Dean had hesitated, and told Sara that they'd need to talk when they got back. Whatever _that_ meant.

Until then, they were stuck in the Bunker with the creator of everything. Sara considered calling her father. She hadn't seen him in a while and constantly worried for him, though the burden of concern was significantly lifted what with Lucifer being . . . incapacitated. Still, though. She made a point to call Jody every day, just to check on her and chat a bit. But her father was almost always in the middle of some kind of . . . deal, or business, or, for lack of a better word, plotting.

 _No harm in calling_ , Sara told herself. _You can leave a message if he doesn't answer._

While the stove heated up, she pushed speed dial on her phone, holding it to her ear as she sliced some bread. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.

"Dad, hi," she said as she sliced some cheese onto the bread. "Everything's fine here. I just wanted to catch up with you, make sure everything was okay. Things are . . . weird here, but I'll tell you about that later." She paused. "I love you. Be careful."

She hung up, setting her phone on the counter. She frowned, though, as she noticed some odd – the screen of the phone was smeared with something, a red sticky substance. Eyes widening, she looked down, realizing the smear had come from her own hands, which were covered in warm, thick blood.

"What," she whispered, heart racing. "What on earth . . ." Her other hand was also covered, as were her clothes, and the side of her head where she'd held her phone. She looked at the floor, finding a trail of thickened, clotted plasma.

"Alex," she cried loudly. "Claire!"

She shakily followed the trail, dotted with footprints and splatters. As she reached the war room, her heart went from racing, to going still. Her own blood went cold. "No!" she screamed. "No!"

The entire room was soaked in blood. It covered the chairs and tables and books, and her dead sisters on the ground. Claire was on her stomach, spread eagle. Her body wasn't intact – something had physically dug her throat apart. Alex laid next to her, eyes glassy and staring at the ceiling. There was a gaping, grisly hole in her chest, heart missing from its cavity.

Sara was suddenly aware of an uneasy weight in her hand, and looked down, sobbing when she realized she was clutching Alex's heart. Claire's flesh was under her broken fingernails, and Sara felt the sobs rack her body, robbing her of breath.

"Sara." She looked up, tears pouring down her face. Her brother dropped the bags of groceries he was carrying, face full of fear as he received the gruesome scene in front of him.

"Gavin," Sara choked, unable to drop the organ she was grasping.

"Sara, what did you do?" Gavin demanded, taking a step back.

"Please, help me," Sara cried, sinking to her knees, legs no longer able to hold her.

"I – I have to tell Sam and Dean," Gavin said, backing up.

"No, don't leave!" she cried harder as he spun around and began to run. Sara held her arm out, desperately reaching for him. "Gavin, please!"

His head snapped back with a sickening crack, his body still for a moment before crumbling to the ground. His eyes were still full of fear as the light died from them, blood gurgling from his mouth.

"No!" she screamed again, dropping her hand, fearing her own power as her stomach turned. "Come back! Gavin, come back!"

Her entire world went momentarily black, until she was suddenly sitting up, gasping for breath and grasping her bedsheets. She was covered in sweat, stomach in knots, crying and shocked to find Sam sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Sam," she swallowed, looking around.

"Hey," he said nervously. "I know it's late, but I heard the crashing so . . ."

"Crashing." She looked around, seeing her room in disarray. Broken picture frames, her dresser practically overturned, the books shaken from the bookshelves. "Did I do that?"

"I guess so," Sam said nervously. "Listen, Sara, I need to tell you –"

"He's here," Sara's stomach turned. She leaned over the bed, grasping for her trashcan, and retched. Sam grimaced at her obvious discomfort, holding her hair back as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the bin. Gagging, she coughed as she gasped for breath, remembering the scene from her overly vivid dream. She'd killed everyone without even noticing. She prayed it was only a nightmare, and not a vision. It couldn't be a vision, it had already happened. Somewhat. She remembered the conversation with her sisters. Making dinner, calling her father, Gavin coming home. But on one hand, she also remembered them eating their dinner, sitting around the TV with Chuck to watch Game of Thrones, and going to bed.

On the other hand . . .

"I . . . killed . . . Claire and Alex," she coughed, wheezing for breath. "And Gavin. It was horrible. There was so much blood. I _felt_ it."

"It was just a nightmare," Sam promised. "It didn't happen. It won't happen. I had dreams like that, too, we all have. I promise you're okay."

"But he's _here_."

Sam looked sympathetic. "Yeah."

"I – is that why I dreamed those things?" Sara asked.

"It's like you have some kind of reaction to him," Sam agreed. "I think it's because you're so similar."

"Similar?" She side-eyed him. "Sam, you'd better explain that."

"Lucifer was everything pure and good about the world when God created him," Sam started. "He was created especially to be God's literal gift to the earth. The ultimate guardian. But he was twisted into something dark and evil and powerful. In a way, Lucifer was born of this overwhelming sense of goodness, and a gnarled piece of evil. Sound familiar?"

"My mother," Sara realized, frowning. "And my father."

"Your mother was good," Sam continued. "She saw the good in everything, even Crowley. She loved you more than anything in the world, and would do anything to protect you. At the time of your, well, conception, Crowley had no good in him. He cared about himself, and ownership over everything – including your mother."

"So, I react so badly to Lucifer . . . because we're alike?" Sara raised her eyebrows. She could see what he was getting at, but the idea was so absurd.

"It's like the way I reacted to Lucifer at first," Sam went on. "It's all about power. I'm maybe the only thing in the world powerful enough to permanently hold him. You're, well . . . one of the only things powerful enough to take him on."

Sara blinked. "You think that I could take on Lucifer . . . and win?"

"Not now," Sam said quickly. "Maybe not in the whole sleep-demoning stage. But eventually, yeah. Maybe."

Sara swallowed, shivering at the thought of ever having that much power. "Are there others that are as powerful?" she asked.

"There are," Sam admitted. "Chuck, I think. Amara. There's, a, a witch. Who we should probably talk about . . ." he cleared his throat. "Listen, you don't have to stay here. Crowley has to have someplace else where you could go, or you could go back to Jody's –"

"I am not afraid of Lucifer," Sara said sharply. "And I won't abandon any of you." She took a deep breath. "Everyone is okay? You didn't run into Amara?"

"We did," Sam sighed. "Metatron is dead. We almost were, too, but Chuck pulled us out. He's out there now, with Dean and Lucifer. We're trying to get them to rekindle."

"Right," Sara said, taking a deep breath. "I'll get cleaned up, then, and be out shortly."

"You don't have to," Sam said quickly.

"I'm not going to hide in my room, Sam." She stood, grimacing at her aching stomach. "I'll be out shortly."


	34. Chapter 34

**Since they're pretty short I decided to go ahead and upload two chapters tonight, chapters 34 and 35.**

 **As this story (which takes place during season 11) draws to a close, and I start the next part of Jody's House for Wayward Girls (which will take place during season 12), would you guys be interested in me letting you know when the new story is up? I can private message you on here, or if you'd prefer me to email it to you, feel free to private message me your email/preferred contact info! That way you can stay up to date with the story? Let me know!**

 **Update on uploading: I plan on having this finished by Christmas (hopefully) and the beginning of the second one up by New Year!**

* * *

Sara couldn't express the relief she felt when she had seen Claire and Alex alive and well that morning. She had taken a hot shower, trying to force the images of the grisly nightmare into the back of her mind as she let the steaming water pour over her, but even that wasn't enough to make her forget Lucifer himself was sharing a building with them.

But seeing Claire and Alex always made her feel better, especially in this particular instance. Though it was odd seeing them pressed up against the kitchen door, ears pressed against the wood.

"What's this?" Sara asked, slightly amused.

"Lucifer sulked in my room for like an hour and blared my music," Claire grumbled.

"Now him and Chuck are having an intervention," Alex whispered.

"Let me in, let me in!" Sara's eyes widened, wiggling between the girls and pressing her ear against the door. Half demon? Sure. But in addition to that, she was a teenage girl, and the juiciest gossip in the literal _universe_ was happening right on the other side of that door.

The words were mostly unclear, but the annoyed, angry tones of Lucifer and the much mellower, guilty ones of Chuck were easily identified. Occasionally Sam would offer up some advice or Dean would make a sarcastic comment, and the absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on Sara.

"Crap, here they come," Claire exclaimed quietly as they heard chairs scraping and heavy footsteps. The girls scrambled to look busy – Claire dove towards the fridge, yanking it open and sticking her head in it as though she were looking for something. Alex turned the sink on and immediately began doing dishes. Panicked, Sara looked around for something to do; finding nothing, she grabbed a bag of marshmallows, shoving some into her mouth.

The kitchen door opened, and the girls looked up. Sam and Dean rolled their eyes, shaking their heads.

"Seriously?" Dean demanded, grabbing the bag of marshmallows and tossing a few into his mouth.

"'Ow did f'ngs 'o wif U'cifer an' c'uck?" Sara mumbled.

Dean gave her a look and Sam gave a small chuckle. Sara chewed and swallowed, clearing her throat.

"How did things go with Lucifer and Chuck?" she tried again.

"Tense. But I think everything should work out." Sam took a deep breath. "We're going to take the fight to Amara."

"What?!" the girls all exclaimed shrilly, startling Dean and causing Sam to wince.

"That's stupid," Claire said, slamming the fridge door.

"It's not the best plan," Alex admitted in a gentler manner.

"Give me back my marshmallows," Sara demanded, suddenly getting to urge to stress eat and hide under her covers.

"We're going to have help," Sam reassured them. "It's not just going to be us. We're going to make sure everyone makes it through this."

"Yeah," Claire said, standing up straighter. "Speaking of which."

She slammed the fridge door and shouldered past the boys.

"Claire, hold on!" Sam called. Sara and Alex looked at each other for a moment and followed.

Claire sauntered into the war room, immediately annoyed at Chuck for picking at his guitar nonchalantly, but when she saw Lucifer she almost saw red. Sitting there at the table, casual, feet kicked up and flipping through a book.

"Hey," Claire demanded. "You."

Lucifer looked up, looking her over. "Oh. It's you," he huffed, sitting up straight. " _Great_."

"Cas better be okay in there, you son of a bitch, or –"

"Or what?" Lucifer asked curiously. "Please, do go on. Tell me exactly ' _or what_ '."

"Lucifer," Chuck chastised. "Castiel is fine, Claire. Really."

"He better be," Claire grumbled, taking another moment to glare before removing herself from the room before she could say anything else.

Sara shifted uncomfortably, and Lucifer's eyes lit up. "Sara," he grinned, looking her up and down. "Did you miss me?"

Sara felt her fingernails digging into her hands as she balled them into fists, and Alex reached out and gently laid a hand on her arm.

Lucifer glanced at her hands. "Still rocking the bandages?" He jerked his head. "C'mere."

"I'd rather not, thanks," Sara said stiffly.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "C'mon, I'm not gonna hurt you. Seriously, I couldn't even if I wanted to. Old man turned my smiting-switch off."

Sara glanced at Chuck, who gave her a reassuring smile, and she stepped forward towards Lucifer. She could notice little differences between him and Castiel, despite the way they shared a body. Lucifer's eyes were colder, and his smirk was intimidating. Sara hated it.

"Hold your hands out," Lucifer ordered her, and reluctantly she did so. With a click of his fingers, the bandages fell away, leaving only the shiny, puckered scars behind. Lucifer waved a hand over the wounds, and Sara sucked in some breath from the odd sensation as a light emitted from Lucifer's hand. As it died down, she was shocked to see her hands back to normal, not a scar in sight. She flexed her fingers, finding them to feel better than they had in weeks. She rubbed her hands together, the feel of it unusual.

"Is that supposed to make us even?" she asked, a bit coolly.

"Nah," Lucifer said, standing. He ruffled her hair as he passed, and Sara shuddered. "If we end up sparring again, I want you in prime condition, is all."

Sara glared at him as he walked towards the bookshelf. With just a thought, she could topple the whole thing over onto him. It wouldn't kill him, or even hurt him probably, but damned if it wouldn't be satisfying . . .

"Sara," Chuck warned with a small, knowing smile.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Fine," she retorted, crossing her arms. Having God in the bunker was putting a real damper on things.

Sam and Dean reentered the room, sitting down and passing out beers. Alex went to get Claire, and even Gavin came out of the garage, wiping his hand on a grease stained rag.

He frowned, looking at Lucifer. "What's he doing here?"

"Well, we didn't exactly have a lotta options," Dean grumbled, and Gavin picked up a beer off the table.

"Not my business, then." He took a drink of beer. He approached Sara, leaning on the back of her chair. "Have you seen Claire?"

"Alex went to get her," Sara replied.

"As long as she's staying out of trouble. I'm going to wash up," her brother continued. He leaned down, kissing her forehead. "You come get me if you need me, yeah?" he added quietly, eyeing Lucifer suspiciously.

Sara smiled, squeezing his hand gently. Even Lucifer couldn't take away the feeling of warmth she felt whenever she was reminded that she actually had a family, a real blood family, now. At first she hadn't understood her half-brothers fierce protectiveness over her, but she was starting to understand that that's just who Gavin was – when it came to family, he would do anything for them. Including forgiving a once abusive father from centuries ago.

As Claire and Alex joined them, Sam, Dean, and Chuck had begun to discuss strategy. They were currently going down the roster of who they could recruit to help them. Lucifer suggested angels, and though Dean was skeptical, it was the best shot they had. Dean suggested Crowley, which instantly made Sara feel extremely nervous, and finally, Sam took a turn, suggesting witches of all things.

"You want to spend your time bickering with Rowena, you go right on ahead," Dean told his brother, and Sam looked pained.

"I keep hearing that name," Sara piped up. "Who is this Rowena exactly?"

Lucifer immediately began laughing. "Boy, is she in for a surprise. Does Rowena know?"

"It's something we can talk about later," Sam said firmly.

"Sure, sure. Go ahead, keep lying to the kid." Lucifer looked at Sara. He pointed at himself. " _I_ , however, have more respect for you than that. Rowena is a witch, a damn good witch, and she's also your granny."

"What?" Sara frowned.

"Rowena is Crowley's mother," Sam admitted reluctantly.

"She's alive?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

"You know her?" Dean frowned.

"No, I met her once, when I was very little," Sara frowned as well. "Too young to remember. She wanted my mother to give me up so I could go live with her."

"I have a hard time believing Rowena wouldn't have been looking for you all these years," Sam said, thoroughly confused.

"Because I made sure she thought Sara was dead," came the annoyed voice of Crowley from the doorway. He glared at Sam as he entered the room, stopping and laying his hands on Sara's shoulders. "For good reason. You boys really can't keep a secret."

Den pointed at Lucifer, and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"She thought I was dead?" Sara frowned up at her father.

"Your grandmother isn't the knitting and cookie baking sort, dear," Crowley replied. "She's dangerous. At the time I didn't even know she was still around; everyone assumed you were dead with your mother. Angels, demons. Apparently witches. It was the only way to keep them away from you. I suppose it worked well enough to trick that bitch as well."

"Probably for the best," Sam agreed reluctantly. "I'm not sure I'd trust Rowena with a kid."

"And now you want to recruit her," Crowley raised an eyebrow. "A terrible idea, by the way."

"And the only one we got," Dean retorted.

"What exactly is this plan, Moose?"

"Hold on, I got this one, Napoleon," Claire said, and Crowley rolled her eyes. Claire set her beer down and Dean frowned.

"Where'd you get that?" he demanded, taking it from her.

"Shush. So here's the plan – they're going to throw everything they've got at Amara, hope it weakens her, and then trap her back into the Mark of Cain instead of killing her."

"That's a terrible plan," Crowley frowned.

" _Thank_ you," Claire said, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"If we kill her, the balance of the entire universe will be thrown off," Chuck intervened. "Nothing good will come of it."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm nothing good," Crowley replied.

"Hell'd be wiped out to," Dean replied with a smug smirk. "All of it – _kaput_."

Crowley sighed heavily. "Bugger. Fine. I guess I'm on Team Winchester again. Claire can be the official mascot."

"Eat me, tiny," Claire replied, taking another drink of beer. Dean confiscated it again, muttering about damn kids.


	35. Chapter 35

**Since they're pretty short I decided to go ahead and upload two chapters tonight, chapters 34 and 35.**

 **As this story (which takes place during season 11) draws to a close, and I start the next part of Jody's House for Wayward Girls (which will take place during season 12), would you guys be interested in me letting you know when the new story is up? I can private message you on here, or if you'd prefer me to email it to you, feel free to private message me your email/preferred contact info! That way you can stay up to date with the story? Let me know!**

 **Update on uploading: I plan on having this finished by Christmas (hopefully) and the beginning of the second one up by New Year!**

Alex didn't like having time alone to herself these days. In the few days that had gone by after her saying goodbye to Kevin, she felt empty. She had never had stability in her life, between moving from place to place with a group of nomadic vampires, to moving in with a part-time hunter and still managing to get involved in dangerous missions, nothing was ever still.

But Kevin was. He was always a phone call away, or giving her signs he was there. He was a constant comfort to her. Her first friend, before Claire, before Sara, before any of this. He'd been there. And now he just wasn't.

It killed her a little bit.

She heard Chuck enter the room. She wasn't surprised – of all the people who didn't sleep, Chuck was at the top of the list.

"It's pretty late," he said, joining her. She was in a corner of the library with an electric lantern set up, reading through lore on witches.

"I don't sleep very well lately," she replied, turning a page.

"I know," Chuck said sympathetically. "Can I sit down?"

Alex hesitated, but nodded, and he sat across from her. He crossed his legs, picking up a book and leafing through it.

"Kevin . . . that was never supposed to happen," he said quietly.

Alex looked at him for a moment. He was frowning, but only slightly, eyes on the book in front of him. Alex took a deep breath and glanced back at the dust covered pages in front of her.

"Yeah," she said.

"His whole life was planned out when I created him. He was going to go to Princeton, graduate top of his class, settle down, have a few kids. But then Dick Roman happened and there had to be a prophet . . . it changed his entire timeline. There are people in this world that won't ever exist because Kevin Tran is dead."

Alex swallowed. "You're God," she whispered.

"I'm Chuck," he sighed.

"Can't you just . . . can't you bring him back?"

Chuck smiled sadly. "Your timeline changed, too, you know," he began, and Alex felt a pang of annoyance as he ignored the question. "The moment you started thinking about selling your soul to get him back. Yes, Alex, I hear everything," he added as she jerked her head up to look at him, eyes wide and mouth gaping. He shook his head sadly. "That's a dark path to go down, Alex, and most demons won't deal with reviving the dead. If you managed to find one that would, you'd bring Kevin back only to give him the exact pain you're feeling when your time was up. Is that what you want?"

"Kevin could have a future," Alex whispered, biding the tears to stay back. "He has a mother, and friends. He could go to school and be something. I don't have anyone."

"You have a family."

"A family of _survivors_. They'd move on."

"Oh, Alex, no. No one really moves on from things like that," Chuck shook his head. "You haven't. You won't. I'm sorry about what happened to Kevin, Alex. And I'm sorry for what happened to you."

Alex swallowed, more angry than hurt now. She stood, dropping her book back onto the pile.

"Not sorry enough," she said coldly, lingering for only a moment before leaving the library, angry tears forcing their way to the surface.

Chuck watched her leave sadly, shutting his own book and sitting alone in library.

* * *

Sara paced back and forth on the small front porch, wringing her hands a bit nervously, still unused to the healed flesh no longer causing her pain. She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping that she looked okay. Her mother had always compared Sara to her grandmother, so Sara was hoping that was a good thing.

When Sam had asked her to come with him, Crowley had said absolutely not. Sam promised nothing would happen to Sara, but still her father refused. Finally, Sara had insisted on doing it, and after a long argument with her father, she got her way.

She looked at her watch. Lucifer had gone back to heaven to convince the angels to help them. Her father had gone to find his loyal followers. And now Sara was here, standing on the porch of a small shack in the middle of nowhere, waiting for Sam's cue.

She turned quickly when she heard the screen door open, and Sam glanced at her.

"I think I've mostly got her convinced," he told her. "But she could use the extra push."

Sara took a deep breath, nodding. She followed Sam inside.

"This is a terrible idea," complained a strong, accented voice from inside. "Clea, if you want to risk your neck for the Winchesters, go on ahead dear. I've played this game one too many times."

"I thought you might say that," Sam replied, crossing his arms. "So I brought someone along who might be able to convince you." He glanced back at Sara and stepped out of the way. Sara felt oddly nervous as she entered the smaller room.

She immediately saw the resemblance everyone talked about. The same copper-toned locks, the delicate figure, eyes that eerily matched Crowley's and Gavin's as well. However, Rowena was exquisite, like a queen in her extravagant gown and makeup, and Sara suddenly felt quite plain in her jeans and hoodie.

Rowena was in just as much awe as Sara, seeing someone so similar to her.

"Hell's bell's," Rowena breathed.

"Rowena," Sam said, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms smugly. "Meet Sara."

Rowena's eyes widened slightly. "Sara – little Sara? My wee little girl?" She stepped forward quickly, examining her. "You're alive?"

"I have been, this whole time," Sara admitted. "I really had no idea you were even still out there."

"My darling, if I'd known – I thought you died with that woman – I mean, your mother . . ." She smiled brilliantly, brushing her elegant hands against Sara's hair. "How pretty you are. Just like your grandmother."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Sara is helping us take down the Darkness," Sam said.

Rowena's face turned from a kind smile to a narrow-eyed look of disbelief as she turned on Sam. "What?"

"I wouldn't call it helping," Sara said quickly, embarrassed. "Making tea and reading books. I don't have a great hold on my powers," she admitted.

"Well, darlin', of course you don't!" Rowena exclaimed, looking surprised. She grabbed Sara's hand. "You're focusing on all that dark, _gritty_ demon power, aren't you?" she wrinkled her nose. "Have you concentrated at all on your natural born craft?"

Sara blinked, confused. "Sorry?"

"You come from one of the strongest magical bloodlines in history. You've got a cocktail of power inside you, and you're only concentrating on half of it." She looked at Sam. "Have you told her nothing?"

"We weren't even supposed to talk about you," Sam shrugged. "Crowley's orders."

"Right. Like you pride yourself on following those." She looked at Clea, who held her hands up in a _"none of my damn business"_ sort of manner. Rowena sighed. "Well, I surely can't let you go again," she smiled, taking Sara's hand and squeezing it. "Of course I'll help." She pursed her lips, glancing at Sam. "I'll have to gather some materials . . ."

Sam nodded. "Meet us at the Bunker."

They went their separate ways, and once Sam and Sara were safely out of earshot and in the Impala, Sam glanced at Sara.

"What's wrong?" she frowned, noticing his nervous demeanor.

Sam sighed and started the car, looking over his shoulder as he backed up. "Here's the thing with Rowena," he began. "I know she comes off really charming and caring, but she doesn't care about anything except for herself. When she says she doesn't want to let you go again, she's not saying that because she cares about you – she cares about power, and you've got a lot of it. I know that seems kinda harsh, but I just want to make sure you know to be wary of her."

"Dad already had this talk with me," Sara admitted. "And I promise I'll be careful. What I don't understand it, how are we going to trap the Darkness in the first place? If we can't kill her, we'll have to capture her, and I'm not sure how we're going to be able to contain her, even with the angels and demons and witches. Are we putting her in a cage, like Lucifer?"

Sam stared out at the road in front of him, expression stony and lips slightly pursed. He was hesitating, and Sara frowned. "Sam?"

"She has to be trapped in the Mark of Cain," Sam finally said.

"The Mark of Cain," Sara frowned. "That's the mark Dean had? The one that turned him into a demon?"

"Yes."

"But who can carry it?" Sara considered, brow furrowing. "They have to be human, don't they? The way Cain was when Lucifer first gave it to him?"

More silence. "I am," Sam said finally.

Sara swallowed. "Isn't this all a bit counter-progressive?" she asked quietly. "You get rid of the Mark but release Amara. Trap Amara and get the Mark back . . ."

"Sara," Sam started.

"And then, what? You just transfer it on and on for the rest of time, making it a burden for others to carry?" she continued. "That doesn't solve anything, not one thing. Even if you don't pass it on, the same thing that happened to Dean will happen to you . . ."

"Sara," Sam tried again.

"I don't want you to take it." Sam glanced away from the road again, realizing Sara's face was contorted with fear and anger. He swallowed and looked back at the road. "I've only just recently collected this little family, you know. It's almost normal. A father, a brother. An acting mother and sisters. And you and Dean and Castiel . . . you've been good friends to me. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt."

"I know that this is tough, being a kid in the middle of all this," Sam started.

"Don't," Sara said lowly. "Don't lecture me, Sam. You're the only person in the world who understands me. The only person who's been through what I'm going through now. Sometimes family is the more important thing. We'll figure out how to save the world later, without risking you or anyone else. So do me a favor and spare me the whole _'it's for the good of the world'_ speech. It'll only piss me off." She crossed her arms and glared out the window.

She grew even angrier, though, when Sam began to chuckle. She turned her head quickly, glaring at him as his chuckle grew into a laugh, and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle them.

"What?" Sara snapped, eyes narrowed.

"N-nothing," he laughed, shaking his head and putting both hands back on the wheel. "It's just . . . they're always comparing you and me, but damn, if you didn't just sound like Dean right then." He continued to laugh, and Sara maintained a frown for a few more moments before breaking into a small grin too.

"You're a bad influence," she chastised him. "Both of you. You've got me talking like a Winchester!"

"Forget talking like one," Sam grinned, shaking his head. "You and Alex and Claire – hell, you all are Winchesters already."

Sara turned her head back towards the window, blushing, and not wanting Sam to see just how much that meant to her.

* * *

 **Don't forget to review!**


	36. Chapter 36

Sara stood in the downstairs floor of the power plant, listening to the arguing of Sam, Dean, and the others upstairs. Claire and Alex were a few feet away from Sara, talking quietly with Jody on the phone. Dean had wanted to send them home to Jody, but the girls refused, and Sam suggested they could be of help another way. Now they just had to wait until everyone was ready.

Sara swallowed, feeling uneasy, and closed her eyes. She pictured to words she'd memorized from the spellbook she'd found in the bunker that night.

" _Ignis_ ," she said quietly, staring down at her open palm. " _Ignis. Ignis. Ignis_. Why won't you work?!"

"You're not pronouncing it right, dear," came Rowena's voice, and Sara was startled, dropping her hand.

"Don't pronounce the hard ' _g_ '," Rowena continued. She opened her own hand. " _Ignis_." Flames leapt to life in her palm, and Sara stared in awe, eyes wide. Rowena smirked with pride her handiwork. " _Surgere_." Sara stepped back quickly as the flames rose higher and wilder into the air, the flames dancing in an array of colors. The display of power was beautiful, but she felt a sense of frustration at being unable to do it herself.

Rowena closed her hand and the flames died. "You'll catch on, darlin'," she assured Sara, rubbing her granddaughter's shoulder gently. "You've got amazing potential in you, I sense it."

"That's not how I'd describe it," Sara sighed, crossing her arms and walking a few feet away. Rowena frowned.

"Now, don't say such things," she cooed, following after and wrapping an arm around her. She glanced down at Sara. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Sara shrugged weakly, miserably irked at herself.

"I see a stunning, talented young woman," Rowena continued, lifting Sara's chin with her finger. "Who is going to do truly astonishing things once she tells herself she can. I should know, she's _my_ granddaughter after all," she added teasingly, tapping Sara's nose. Sara couldn't help but smile at such comfortable, praising words. She knew Sam had warned her against falling for Rowena's charm, but she was very good at making the girl feel at ease with herself.

"Keep your head up, you'll get the hang of it," Rowena squeezed her shoulder, kissing Sara's temple. "I'll help you along the way."

"Because you're so loyal, eh, Red?"

Rowena pursed her lips, and Sara bristled at the voice that was suddenly so close behind them.

"Lucifer," she smiled sweetly, turning to look at him. "I hope you're here to apologize for giving my Sara such terrible nightmares?"

"How do you know about those?" Sara glanced at her, frowning.

"I can tell," Rowena replied, not taking her eyes away from Lucifer. "He wormed his way into my mine as well."

"Yours were a lot more fun," Lucifer smirked, hands shoved in his pockets leisurely. "Sara's are all self-loathing and fear, blah blah. Boring. You, though, you're as selfish and power hungry as they come. Makes for more interesting dreams."

"Be gone, Lucifer, before I turn you into something more befitting of your disposition." She arched one, perfect eyebrow. "A cockroach, perhaps?"

Lucifer's smile widened, but his eyes showed annoyance at her nonchalance. He slowly stepped forward, but Rowena held her ground, holding her head high. Lucifer leaned in close.

"One day, Red," he said quietly, brushing his hand against her hair. "I'm going to snap that pretty little neck again. But this time I'll make sure you stay dead." He glanced at Sara, who held her ground as well.

Lucifer smirked as he pulled away. "And your little dog, too," he added, pulling his eyes away from Sara and returning upstairs.

Sara released the breath she'd been holding, running her hand through her hair nervously.

"Don't let him ruffle your feathers," Rowena told her. "If things go my way, he'll be gone very, very soon."

"What does that mean?" Sara frowned.

"Rowena!" Sam called from upstairs.

"Don't have a worry, hen," Rowena reminded Sara with a dazzling smile. She squeezed Sara's hand, and started up the stairs, passing Crowley as he descended.

"Mother," he said coldly.

" _Fergus_ ," she sniffed haughtily before continuing up the stairs.

Crowley glared over his shoulder as he joined his daughter.

"Is that your name?" Claire snickered, joining them as she shoved her cellphone into her pocket. "Fergus?"

"Don't," Crowley warned.

"Aye, laddie," Claire replied, sitting on an old crate. Alex crossed her arms, leaning against it.

"So I guess you came down here to try and convince us to leave?" Sara suggested with a sigh. "Because I'm not going. I'm not leaving you or the others behind. Gavin is at the bunker right now to monitor any strange activity that comes of all this, and if you send us back there I'll have him drive us right back here."

"Yes, I know," Crowley sighed. "Which is why I've only come to tell you to be careful and stay bloody well away from Amara. I'm sure Squirrel will be down any moment to fill you in on the specifics of the . . . _plan_ , for lack of a better word." He paused, glancing at Claire and Alex. "I'd hoped to speak to you alone for a moment, Sara."

Claire rolled her eyes, sliding off the crate. "You're too subtle. C'mon Alex."

"Girls," Crowley said over his shoulder, and Alex and Claire turned to look at him, frowning.

"Be careful out there," he continued.

Claire grinned. "Yes, sir, your highness." She mock bowed, before leading Alex away.

"I knew you had a soft spot for them," Sara grinned, watching her sisters.

"Don't let them know." He paused. "Sam told me that you found out about your mother's death, mostly on your own. Clever girl."

Sara shifted, hugging her arms to herself uncomfortably. "That's it?" she questioned him. "That's all you can say?" She sighed. "You should have told me."

"I would have, eventually. To be completely honest I'm more than a bit concerned about your current mental state, and didn't think more stress would bode well for your future."

Sara glared. "Claire's right, Dad, you're far too subtle. Tell me how you really feel."

"Oh, that sarcasm," he snapped with an eyeroll. "You've known your grandmother less than a day and you already are starting to sound like her." He huffed. "Darling, I could write a book on things that you should know but don't. But I won't, because none of it pertains to what's going on in the present. Prove to me that you can follow orders and stay strong, and I'll tell you everything."

Sara hesitated. "Promise?"

"I give my word. And that's worth a lot." He looked up towards the staircase. "They're getting ready," he continued as Dean called for them. "Let's get this over with."

The girls and Crowley went upstairs, where everyone – even God and Lucifer – was looking grim. Dean turned to Sara, pressing a Walkman into her hand. "Keep contact with us through this," he told her. "Let us know if anything goes wrong, and what's happening out there. If anything real crazy starts happening, call Gavin and get the hell outta here."

"Camille and Roland will be with you," Crowley added. "They'll be leading the demons strike against Amara."

"You got all that?" Dean asked, and the girls nodded nervously. "Good. Here's the plan."

* * *

"This is a stupid idea."

Alex was seriously considering taking shots every time Claire said that. Maybe it'd get her just drunk enough to agree with her foster sister.

"Shh," Sara hushed them. "It's starting."

The three – along with Camille and Roland – stood on a rooftop beside the abandoned power plant. They knew the basics of the plan, but of course weren't allowed inside at the insistence of their elders.

"Sara, we're gonna lose contact shortly," Dean said through the Walkman. "Once Amara is inside, get down and stay down until one of us comes to get you guys."

"Be careful," Sara replied.

"It's starting," Roland said, catching the crackle of power in the air. He glanced at Camille, who nodded. Roland disappeared, and Camille joined the girls.

The girls and Camille shifted into crouching positions, peeking over the edge of the rooftop as Rowena exited the powerplant. Sara's heart was racing as a woman appeared out of thin air.

The girls were surprised, not expecting the Darkness to be so – well, this. She was beautiful, but intimidating. Sara could definitely see the appeal Dean must feel for her. Sara frowned, though, as Rowena and Amara continued talking.

Rowena stepped back, thrusting her arms out and shouting. " _Attenuare_!"

The girls were taken aback at the little effect the magic had on the Darkness, as she continued forward, ignoring the glowing flames and power. She slowed a bit, though, as the effects of the spell began to work their literal magic.

"It's working," Alex whispered. "The witches must be pulling their weight."

"Not enough," Camille added, pointing.

"Enough," Amara had snapped, with a wave of her hand. The spell exploded outward, knocking Rowena onto the ground and causing the girls to duck for cover.

Sara lifted the Walkman to her face. "Rowena's down," she reported. "The spell ricocheted. I think you'd better have Lucifer signal the angels."

"Got it. Get down."

Sara glanced up to the sky as thunder began to rumble, and Camille pulled her, Alex and Claire behind the shelter of some piled junk on top of the roof. The thunder grew louder, lightning flashing and bathing them in quick flashes of light.

Amara seemed to be enjoying the battle as she stretched her arms out. The girls covered their ears to fight the sound of her screaming and the thunder as an unnaturally bright, strong flash of lightning struck Amara.

"She's getting weaker," Claire acknowledged.

"Camille, now," Sara said with a glance at the demon.

Camille gave a nod, squeezing the girl's arm, before smoking out of her meatsuit and joining the black mass of demons that dove towards Amara. Sara felt her heart nearly stop as her father exited the building. He glanced in her direction, and Sara swallowed. Crowley winked, and smoked out, joining the battle.

Claire grasped Sara and Alex's hands, holding tightly as the battle raged.

"Come on," Claire muttered. "Come _on_."

Amara was screaming and fighting in midair among the demons, and with one extreme strike from Crowley, she fell to the ground and landed hard against a car. She laid on the ground, unmoving.

The girls were holding their breath. "Is – is that it?" Alex finally breathed.

Their hearts dropped as Amara staggered to her feet.

"Dean," Sara said into the Walkman, her voice masked by static from the field of power surrounding the premises. "She's coming."

Dean said something, but she didn't hear through the static. The girls watched in mute horror as Amara shoved the doors open, entering the power plant.

Sara stood, running towards the ladder on the side of the building.

"Hey, wait!" Claire said, following.

Alex grimaced, wanting to stay put like Dean had told them, but then again, when was she ever a good listener?

The girls made their way onto the ground, pausing when they heard Amara screaming inside. Sara looked around, her father gone, but felt a pang of relief – if his body was gone, he was still alive. Probably counting in loses in case they'd need another demon strike. She glanced to her left, seeing Rowena unconscious on the ground, and went to her. Sara lowered to her knees beside her grandmother, feeling for a pulse and finding a faint one.

"She's alive," she reported, examining a bloody gash amidst the red curls on Rowena's temple. "Just knocked out.

"What the hell is going on in there?" Alex said in hushed horror at the sound of a scream.

The girls all gasped and dove for the ground, though, as a brilliant flash of golden light exploded from the building, dashing through the sky and disappearing in a matter of seconds, if that.

"What the hell was that?" Claire asked after a stunned moment.

"I think it was a _who_ ," Sara grimaced. She could feel his presence evaporating from her surroundings - Lucifer was gone.

The screaming continued from the power plant, but the girls were too distracted as the sun came up, bathing the entirety of their surroundings in an unusual, eerie rosy light.

"Oh, my God," Alex whispered, eyes widened as she watched the sun rise into the air.

"What in the hell?" Claire asked, squinting and shielding her eyes.

Rowena gasped, suddenly sitting up. Sara took her hand, and Rowena looked at her, the attack spell dying from her lips as she realized where she was.

"What happened?" Rowena demanded. "Was the Darkness defeated?"

"I don't think so," Claire said fearfully, pointing into the sky. Rowena frowned, turning to glance at the sky herself. Her own eyes widened.

"Dear God," she whispered.

Sara looked towards the power plant. "It's gone quiet."

"Amara is gone," Rowena struggled to her feet. "But something is very, very wrong."

Claire took off across the empty lot, her sisters calling after her. She reached the double doors, yanking them open and not slowing down until she reached the room where the others were.

She almost wept with relief upon realizing they were all alive. Dean was supporting Lucifer, and Sam was helping Chuck up. They all looked towards her, and Lucifer stood up straighter.

"Claire." When he spoke, though, Claire realized with intense relief that it was no longer Lucifer's carefree, sneering voice – it was the gravely, heavy voice she knew so well, that she'd gone weeks without hearing.

"Cas?" her eyes widened slightly.

There was silence for a moment, before Claire moved from the spot she'd been rooted too, running towards him; he was ready for her, opening his arms and capturing her in an embrace as she threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and laying her head against his chest as she really did weep. He held her close, feeling very small and human-like as he comforted the crying teenager.

"Don't – ever – do – that – again!" Claire gasped around her cries, hitting him on the shoulder. "Ever, okay?"

Cas gave a small smile. "Okay."

She continued to hug him, unaware until this moment just how fond she was of the man in her father's body. In a way, it was like Jimmy was still there, and she swore for a moment she could feel his eyes on her from heaven.

"So – did it work?" Claire demanded, turning to look at the others. Crowley had joined them once more, looking tired but otherwise unharmed.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "N-not exactly," Sam said.

"Where are the others?" Dean demanded.

As if on cue, the doors opened. Alex entered, followed by Sara, who was supporting Rowena.

"Thank God you're all alive," Alex sighed with relief. "We saw a flash of – _something_ disappear out of here and we weren't sure what happened."

"That would have been Lucifer," Castiel frowned.

"Cas?" Sara asked in surprise. "You're you?"

"I'm me," he confirmed.

"I take it things didn't work out the way they were planned?" Sara continued.

"Gee, how'd you guess," Dean grumbled, helping Sam to pull Chuck up.

Rowena cocked an eyebrow. "Have you taken a look outside?"


	37. Chapter 37

Gavin dropped the scotch he was sipping on and almost pissed himself when his father, sister, Claire, Alex, Sam, Dean, God, and a redhead woman he'd never seen before appeared in the middle of the war room. He had instinctively reached for his gun, but gave a sigh of relief when he saw it was just the others.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he demanded, putting his gun down.

"What's the word?" Dean asked, frowning at the blinking monitors.

"What's the word? The bloody sun is broken, that's the word!" Gavin exclaimed, turning his laptop towards Dean. It showed various news clips from all around the world of people desperately trying to explain what was happening. "People all over the world are freaking out. And you!" he added, pointing at Claire angrily. "I've been calling and calling! I thought you were dead! Don't you ever do that –"

The entire room was stunned as Claire closed the distance between herself and Gavin, grabbing his jacket and yanking him down to her level. She pressed her lips against his, shutting him up mid-rant, and Gavin relaxed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer as Claire stood on her toes and tilted her head. Alex and Sara exchanged grins, Dean pulled ten bucks out of his wallet and handed it to Sam, Castiel looked taken aback, Rowena had _no_ bloody idea what was going on, Crowley looked annoyed, and God was smiling.

Claire pulled away suddenly, leaving Gavin dazed.

". . . ever again," he finished quietly.

"Life's too short for this flirting bullshit," Claire said, stepping away.

"I – yeah. Yeah, I agree. Completely."

"I feel . . . very uncomfortable," Castiel said, brow furrowing as he frowned. Sam almost chuckled at Castiel's paternal instincts.

"Hell's bell's, what's all this?" Rowena asked Crowley quietly.

"That," Crowley replied, lips pursed. "Is your grandson."

"My _what_?"

"Her _what_?" Gavin asked, suddenly jerked out of his blissful daze as he exchanged looks with his father.

"For God's sake, Fergus, how many more are there?!" Rowena exclaimed. She glanced at Chuck. "No offense, dear, Charles."

"No, none taken," he assured her, sitting on the table heavily, looking worse by the second.

"To be fair, you would have met this one, had you stuck around back in the day," Crowley continued, heading for the liquor cabinet.

"I have literally no idea what's going on," Gavin said faintly.

"We're getting drunk," Dean said, heading for the kitchen. "That's what's going on."

* * *

Claire, Alex, and Gavin sat on the table of the telescope room, no one saying a word. The silence was practically deafening, but really, what could be said? The world was ending, and no one was trying to do a thing.

Sara entered, setting down a tray of tea and sipping at her cup gingerly, staring off into space.

"What's going on down there?" Alex asked quietly.

Sara sighed, running her hand through her hair. "Well, Dean and Castiel went to get more beer, my father is doing his very best to get drunk, Sam is trying to find a plan B, and my grandmother is flirting with God."

"Why aren't they doing anything?" Claire demanded.

"They're tired. They've given up," Alex said in defeat. "This is it. Even without God's power, there could be hope. But with the Winchesters down and out . . ." she shook her head. "It's all over."

"Don't say such things, Alex," Sara told her, but she couldn't even find the energy to properly scold her. She was worried, too.

"The girls at school always did say the day I got a boyfriend would be the day the world ends," Claire admitted. Gavin tried to give a smile, squeezing her hand, but even he was looking lost in the situation.

"This isn't the first apocalypse the boys have gone through," Claire continued. "They can fix this."

"Not if they don't try," Alex sighed.

Sara couldn't take the sitting around – she never was very good at sitting still. She made her way back downstairs, stopping when she heard Dean and Castiel's voices. She frowned – they'd just left, surely they weren't back already? She crept towards the door, listening to the conversation at hand. After catching the gist of it, she turned and ran back up the stairs.

Gavin, Claire, and Alex glanced at her as she burst through the door, excitement evident on her face.

"They've got something," she exclaimed.

* * *

Claire didn't like the looks of the old asylum, mostly because hospitals – no matter what kind – totally gave her the creeps. But now, as she clutched a shotgun loaded up with rocksalt to her chest, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of excitement.

Then again, chasing ghosts _was_ pretty exciting.

"Round 'em up," Dean told her. "Chase them out of the halls into the main room where Sam and I are. Don't let any slip past you and if they attack, blast the hell out of 'em."

"I know the drill," she promised.

Dean nodded. "Right. Sam went to piss the ones downstairs off. You go mess with the ones upstairs."

Claire nodded, making her way up the creaking, graffiti-covered stairs towards the third floor. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, EMF reader whirring in her pocket.

Soul collecting was heavy work, man.

She heard rustling behind her and spun around, stepping out of the way as a woman in a hospital gown screamed in her face, eyes crazed. Claire cocked the gun and pulled the trigger, blowing the ghost into a curl of smoke and ash. Claire turned and pressed her back to the wall as she listened, swinging the gun to her left and shooting into the face of a wheelchair-bound inmate. They dissipated as well, and Claire could feel the air around her crackle with electricity.

"C'mon, ya crazies," she sang as she made her way around the rooms, creeping into corners. No one came at her, no cold spots, nothing. She frowned. "What the hell?" she muttered, returning to the hall.

She stopped, though, feeling eyes on her. Slowly, she turned.

An entire horde of insane, dead mental patients stood in a mass, staring at her. Some were terribly disfigured, some were giggling with delight. There had to be fifty, at least, all staring at Claire.

The wheelchair ghost was in the front. He raised his hand, giving Claire a slow little finger wave and smiling crazily.

"Aw, hell," Claire said as the ghosts started sprinting towards her.

She spun around, sprinting down the stairs, heavy footsteps and angry yells behind her as she ran through the sanatorium.

"Did you find some?" she heard Dean call.

"Something like that!" she yelled back as outreached fingers grazed her hair and the back of her shirt.

She turned the corner, taking long, running strides and sliding into the room baseball-style.

"Claire?" Dean frowned, looking down at her, then up at the mass of angry ghosts. His eyes widened. "Aw, _hell!"_ he started firing off rounds to keep them at bay. Claire scrambled into the corner, shooting her own gun. A moment later Sam entered the fray, bringing more than a few ghosts into the room with him.

Claire screamed when her gun was pushed away with a burst of power and a ghost shoved her onto her stomach, straddling her sides and grabbing her hair. Sam was on the ground nearby, being choked by a ghost. He shouted at Dean.

Dean threw the crystal Rowena had given them into the air, shouting the magic word, and Claire rolled over as the ghost disappeared. All the spirits in the room were sucked into the crystal, and the boys and Claire sat still for a few moments, catching their breath.

"Alright," Claire said brightly, grabbing a windowsill and pulling herself up. She clapped her hands together. "Where to next?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, exhausted, and remembering when they had that much energy. Damn, they were getting old.

* * *

"Excuse the mess, darling, the help has been absolutely horrid these days."

Sara hadn't been expecting this when she'd thought of her father's kingdom. She'd been rather surprised to learn he conducted most of his business here on earth, and in a regular old building to boot. But as she entered the building behind her father, she realized the outside was deceiving, and the inside was much more palace-like.

"I'm not really sure why you asked me to come," she admitted as she followed him through the maze of stone passages.

"Because I have a sneaking suspicious the world might end, and should it do so, I'd prefer to spend my last moments in the company of the only thing I love," he replied, and Sara felt her heart squeeze.

They entered a large, dark throne room, and with a snap of his fingers Crowley lit the torches. A large chandelier also sprouted light as the flames of the candles danced to life.

The room was much more like what Sara had been expecting. Stone walls and flooring, with cabinets, tables, and furniture made of rich antique woods. A large red carpet sprawled across the floor, and on top a pedestal sat a large throne.

Crowley went straight to a wall on the far side of the room, pulling a tapestry aside and revealing a large, intricate looking safe. He waved his hand over it and the door opened. He busied himself going through the contents, and Sara roamed the room, examining her surroundings. Cabinets held various trinkets and antiques. A large metal cart held weapons of all sizes and types. Sara ran her hand over the arm of the throne as she examined a painting of her father on the wall.

"Have a seat," her father said, watching her. He was holding an ancient looking wooden box. Sara glanced at him, then at the throne.

"Go on," he urged her, and Sara did as she was told, nervously. Sitting in a throne may seem like a little thing, but it really did have a fantasy-like feel to it, she considered as she leaned into it. She felt like the Queen, or Dumbledore, or Moriarty when he stole the crown jewels.

Crowley looked amused. "I don't let just anyone sit there," he told her. "But for a princess, I think I can make an exception." He gave a small bow, and Sara rolled her eyes.

"Princess of Hell," she grinned. "Every little girls dream."

"Well, it should be." He sat the box on the table, and Sara stood, joining him.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's where I keep my most valuable possessions," he replied, opening it. He tsked. "Bullocks. Just as I thought."

"What's wrong?" Sara frowned.

"The key to the souls vault has been taken. No doubt while Lucifer was in power. Oh, well. I'm sure the vault has been emptied by this point, anyway. Demons get rowdy without authority."

Sara glanced at the contents. She caught a look at a few things – an ancient looking hexbag, an even older book written in Enochian, a lock of golden hair Sara was certain belonged to her mother, a printed photo of her father kissing an older, bearded man, and . . .

Sara grimaced. "Oh, Dad, is that a human finger?" she looked away.

He chuckled, closing the box and replacing it in the vault. "I _am_ a demon." He shut and locked the safe.

"What now?" Sara asked hesitantly, wringing her hands.

"Now? We go back to the Bunker, and hope Moose and Squirrel have gathered enough souls for whatever spell it is Rowena intends to cast. Then we wait for the apocalypse, or for a Winchester to get lucky enough to avoid it."

"That's all?"

"Darling, that's all we can do." He looked around, disgusted with the lack of minions scurrying about, avoiding eye contact and doing his biding. "Take a good look, Sara. If anything should happen to me, this is yours."

Sara looked at him, shocked by the statement. "What?"

"Hell. The entire kingdom goes into your control."

Sara blinked. "But – but I'm not . . . I'm not a demon."

"Neither was Lucifer. No, you're not a demon – you're stronger. And strength wins down here." He turned to her, and for the first time Sara realized just how much power meant to her father. She felt a little scared. "I'd rather die than give up all that I've built, my entire kingdom. But should anything happen, you'll be groomed by my loyalists to take over – and I've no doubt you'll do it with ease."

 _But I don't want it._ "Nothing will happen to you," she said instead.

"Let's hope. For now, though, we need to return to the bunker – hopefully Cas will have had more luck in heaven."

* * *

"Heaven was a bust."

Alex turned away from her various monitors and controls in the basement to glance at a dejected looking Castiel. She frowned.

"No one would help?" she asked.

"No," Castiel replied. He sighed, sitting down. "Have you heard from the others?"

"Claire is on her way back with Sam and Dean," Alex said, checking her phone. "They cleaned out Waverly Hills. Sara says the souls from Hell are a bust. Will the souls from Waverly be enough?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never done anything like this."

"To be fair, I don't think _anyone_ has done anything like this," Alex shrugged. "What exactly _is_ this?"

"If I understand the plan correctly, though I sometimes don't," the angel began. "Rowena is building a bomb from souls that will engulf Amara in a vast, overwhelming amount of light that will destroy her. Rather or not that stops the sun from dying remains to be seen."

"Okay," Alex said slowly. "But how are we going to get close enough to Amara to set the bomb off?"

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, and frowned. His brow furrowed, frown deepening as he considered.

"I . . . hadn't thought of that," he admitted sheepishly.

Alex smiled a bit. "It's good to have you back, Cas."

"It's good to be back," he admitted. "Lucifer was a rather aggressive roommate."

"I'll bet." Alex examined her monitors, watching as various news networks freaked out over the impending doom.

"I understand Kevin has moved on," Castiel said after a moment, and Alex swallowed. She nodded.

"That is a shame," Castiel admitted. "I liked him. He was a good man."

"Yeah," Alex said softly. She fiddled with a pen, glancing at the angel. "Have you ever been in love, Cas?"

He frowned. "That's a . . . strange thing to ask. And difficult. Yes, I suppose I have. I fell in love with humanity. I suppose it's my driving factor in trying to save it now."

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Why do you ask?"

"I just . . . wanted to know," she said quietly, blinking back tears. "When it stops hurting. To lose what you love."

She looked down in surprise when Cas laid his hand over hers. She looked into his eyes, finding them as sad and suffering as her own heart.

"It doesn't," he said simply.

He stood. "The boys and Claire are back – and Sara and Crowley as well. We should join them."

Alex wiped her eyes, nodding, and followed the angel up the stairs.


	38. Chapter 38

**Happy holidays, guys! Tonight I bring you two new chapters and tomorrow, the last one! I hope you're all enjoying yourselves and don't forget to review and follow!**

* * *

Claire sat on the trunk of the Chevelle, staring down at the locket Cas had given her all those months ago. Her parents smiled up at her, normal, happy in that frozen moment of time, and Claire angrily sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

"Looks like I might be on my way, guys," she whispered, closing the locket and clutching it to her heart. "Wait up for me, okay?"

She heard the garage door open, but she didn't turn to see who it was. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried her best to look as though she hadn't been crying and talking to her dead parents.A moment later Gavin joined her, sitting next to her. She leaned against him, wrapping her arm around his as she stared off into space. Gavin rested his head against hers, kissing the top of hers.

"We don't have enough souls," Claire whispered.

"I know," he told her.

"I guess this really is it."

"We can get more."

"There's not enough time."

He sighed. "I know."

She looked up at him, eyes welling with tears again. "I just thought I'd have more time, you know? Time to grow up. Fall in love and have a family. Hunt some, too. And just the thought of all my friends and family . . ." she swallowed again, shuddering at the thought of the impending doom around them.

"Claire," Gavin said, taking her face in his hands. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs, his warm, dark eyes peering into her lighter, piercing blue ones. "I just have to tell you – you know I'm not from here. I didn't have anything. No family, no purpose. I was just performing the movements, not really living. Then you lot came along . . ." He shook his head, closing his eyes and composing himself for a moment. He opened his eyes again, his own shining. "I am so glad I met you," he finished in a whisper. "No one makes me feel the way you do. These last few months with you have been the best I've ever had. My father, he told me . . . he tried to warn me, to tell me to stay away from you, because people in our line of work don't last long and it would only bring heartbreak. But I don't care. I love you, Claire. Very, very much."

Claire blinked back tears. "I love you, too," she admitted quietly. "I didn't want to – didn't want to say that, though, because the people I love die or get hurt. But now that we're all dying anyway." She shook her head. "I love you, too," she repeated, pulling him to her and sinking into a long, deep kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and just held him close.

They paused, though, pulling apart as the electricity in the bunker died. The backup generator kicked on, the lights turning red and an alarm buzzing. Claire and Gavin looked at each other, nervous.

"That can't be good," Gavin remarked nervously.

The two slid off the Chevelle, making their way into the bunker and heading for the war room as the lights returned to normal and the buzzer cut off. They could hear voices as they got closer to the room.

They frowned, though, as they reached the room and found another new face standing there, holding the crystal Rowena had given the boys to make the bomb. It was glowing with a pulsating light as it was filled with what could only be souls.

Gavin and Claire watched in awe as the woman, whoever she was, finished doing what she was doing.

"What the hell is going on?" Claire hissed as Sara joined them from where she'd been standing, dumbstruck, with Alex.

"That's Billie," Sara whispered back as the others continued talking. "She's a reaper – and she just filled the bomb with more than enough souls to defeat Amara!"

"What?!" Claire's eyes were wide as she looked over at the reaper, who was handing the bomb to Rowena.

"We good?" Billie the reaper asked.

"Very," Rowena said, eyes wide as she gingerly held the crystal.

"Super." Billie began to make her way out of the building, exchanging tense goodbyes. Before she left, she glanced towards Crowley, looking him up and down. "Crowley."

Crowley responded with a coy smirk as he watched the reaper leave. He looked back at the others when he realized they were watching him.

"Dad?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

"What?" he demanded sheepishly. "The Winchesters aren't my whole life. I have . . . associates."

"Well, I'm not calling her 'mum'," Gavin retorted, crossing his arms.

"So, now what?" Claire and Castiel asked at the same time.

Everyone exchanged glances, before settling their eyes on Rowena, who was still clutching the glowing crystal.

"Now comes the difficult part," she said ominously. "And it's not pretty."

* * *

Claire was numb.

After a certain point, losing people has that effect on a person. Instead of screaming or crying or bargaining, you just become _numb_. Occasionally, she would regain her senses – her eyes would well with tears, it would feel like there was a rock sitting heavy in the pit of her stomach, and she'd want to start arguing. Then the gravity of the situation would hit her again, and she'd go numb.

She watched Sam and Dean from a distance. She was leaning against the Chevelle, parked next to the Impala. Off to the side, Crowley was holding his desolate daughter, doing his best to comfort her. Alex was much like Claire, staring off, dried tears staining her face. Cas was in a similar pose, standing with Chuck and Rowena awkwardly near the Impala. Gavin lingered near Claire, but knew she was hurting, so kept his distance.

Sam and Dean were talking by the gravestone of their mother. As they finished up their conversation, Dean walked away, leaving Sam.

Alex pushed herself off the Impala, meeting Dean halfway. Dean gave her a smile, ruffling her hair gently.

"You gave us one hell of a set up in the bunker," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You gotta do something with that talent you got."

"I will," she promised.

Dean sobered, sighing. "You, uh – you should know, I know what it's like, losing someone you love, okay? Don't let it take over. It'll ruin you. Don't do anything stupid or rash or . . ."

Alex stepped forward, hugging him. Dean hugged her back gently.

"I know," she whispered.

Dean nodded, patting her back as she stepped away.

"You be good," he told her, and Alex swallowed and nodded before returning to the Impala.

Sara was next, breaking away from her father and wiping the tears from her face to join Dean. He smiled at her.

"Mini-Sam," he grinned, and Sara gave a half-chuckle, half-sob.

"I don't want you to go," she coughed.

"Yeah, I know," he nodded. "I'm pretty awesome."

She laughed again, stepping forward and embracing him. He'd been wary of her at first, she knew – being half demon wasn't something Dean would have thought would result in such a friendship. But he showed her kindness, and in return, she did her best to take care of him. But now that was all ending.

"Hey, listen," he told her, stepping away a bit, but staying close and speaking quietly. "Sam . . . Sam is gonna be pretty messed up for a while. And he'll have Cas, which is great, but . . ." he hesitated, shaking his head. "You're the only person I know so similar to Sam, and he's gonna need someone to make sure he stays sane, you know? Someone who can look out for him once in a while. I know that's a lot to ask of a kid, but, I dunno, just – just keep an eye on him, will ya?"

Sara smiled, heart feeling as though it were crumbling inside of her chest. In that moment she held all the respect in the world for Dean Winchester, a man who was knowingly and willingly going off to die, but was more concerned with his brother surviving without him.

"I will," Sara swallowed. "I promise."

Dean gave her a small smile and pulled her into another hug.

"Thank you," Sara whispered. "For everything."

She stepped away, turning and walking away quickly to hide the new tears that were steadily flooding down her face.

Dean looked at Claire, and she knew she'd have to say goodbye, too.

Her emotions flooded back to her as she slowly crossed the cemetery, stopping a few feet from Dean.

"So, this is it," she said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Going down in a blaze of glory?"

"Better than getting old. Trust me, I do _not_ make a pretty old guy."

Claire looked away, wondering for a moment how she was not crying.

"Hey, make sure Sam doesn't mess with my car too much," Dean told her. "Don't let him douche it up." He noticed the backpack sitting by the front door of the Chevelle, and nodded at it. "You goin' somewhere?"

Claire glanced back at it. "Oh, yeah. Back to Jody's for a bit. Then Alex said maybe she wants to go see her Dad, get back in touch with him. Figured I could drive. Keep busy . . ."

They were silent for several long moments.

"Hey," Dean started, but Claire ignored him, stepping forward and throwing her arms around him. Dean wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she swallowed back some tears and blinked rapidly at her stinging eyes. She took in everything she could about Dean – his feel, his smell, the way he rubbed her back gently in an attempt to comfort her – and tried to freeze this moment forever, not wanting to let go of the first person to ever make her feel normal.

"I love you, you idiot," she hissed.

He smiled a little. "Yeah, yeah, I know you do. I love you too, kid."

Claire released him reluctantly, stepping back and exchanging glances with him.

He grinned. "Later, Miley."

She grinned, too, despite her grief. "See you 'round, Hasselhoff."

She swallowed her pain, backing up and returning to her car as Dean went to exchange words with Castiel. Alex and Sara were waiting for her by the Chevelle. Sara reached out, taking her hand, and Alex laid her hand on Claire's arm. The girls stood, watching as Dean said his goodbyes, all three tearing up as he exchanged words and the keys to the Impala with Sam.

With a snap of Chuck's fingers, Dean Winchester was gone, leaving behind a grief stricken family, and a legacy.


	39. Chapter 39

**Happy holidays, guys! Tonight I bring you two new chapters and tomorrow, the last one! I hope you're all enjoying yourselves and don't forget to review and follow!**

* * *

Claire parked the Chevelle behind the Impala, and Gavin arrived a moment later, parking his truck beside the Chevelle. The girls got out of the car, and Gavin out of his truck, and they met in the parking lot.

"Well, fellas," Claire said as she stopped in front of Sam and Castiel. "This has been one hell of a day, but we'd better get going."

"You're leaving?" Sam frowned.

Alex nodded. "We're going to go back to Jody's, catch her up." She hesitated. "Then, we're going to go see my Dad."

Sam tried for a smile. "That's great, Alex. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."

Alex shrugged. "Just figured, you know. After this whole apocalypse thing maybe I should tie up some loose ends. Make sure the people I care about know it."

Sam nodded. "I get it," he told her.

He was doing a great job masking the pain, Claire thought as he hugged Alex good-bye. But then again, she supposed both Winchesters were pretty good at that by now. She sure was.

She stepped forward, hugging Sam quickly, before moving towards Cas.

"If you need anything," he started. "Anything at all . . ."

"I know," she told him. She glanced at Alex, then at Sara and Gavin, who were talking quietly. "I'll be okay. And you will, too." She looked back at him. "I'm glad you're okay," she said, hugging him.

He hesitated before hugging back. "Claire, Dean loved you."

She swallowed, nodding. "Yeah." _All my loved ones die_ , she recalled saying to Gavin earlier that day, and she stepped away from Cas. "See you guys later, I guess," she said. "C'mon, guys," she gestured at Sara and Alex.

Sara stepped forward, hesitating and twisting her hair nervously. "I'm going to stay a while," she told her foster sisters.

Claire raised her eyebrows, and Sam looked just as surprised.

"You sure?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah," she shrugged, making it seem nonchalant. "Spend some time with Dad, clean up the bunker a bit. Claire's left a horrible mess," she teased. She glanced at Sam. "That is, if it's okay with you, Sam."

"Yeah, of course," he smiled weakly, a little relieved to have the company. He knew Cas would be busy with heaven, and tracking down Lucifer, and the last thing Sam needed was to be alone.

"We'll stop by in a few days on our way to my Dad's," Alex promised.

"We'll bring pizza," Claire agreed.

"Sounds good," Sara smiled. "Tell Jody I'll be home soon."

Claire nodded, heading back towards the Chevelle with Alex. Gavin joined her, leaning against the car.

"I'm going to stick around for a while longer, too," he told them. "I should be at Jody's by morning."

"Okay," Claire nodded. "Be careful. Drive safe. Wear a seatbelt, watch out for oncoming traffic, blah blah –"

Gavin silenced her with a quick kiss, and Claire flushed red. He pulled away, nodded at Alex, and watched as Claire got into the car, driving away. He waved as the car's headlight disappeared into the distance.

He turned, sighing as he found his father had successfully broken into the liquor store, and followed after him.

His father slid a beer down the bar counter towards him, and Gavin caught it, nodding and taking a seat beside Rowena. She glanced at him over her drink.

"So," she started. "Time travel. That's powerful magic."

"Demon," Gavin replied after taking a pull from his beer.

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "Really? Which one?"

"Abaddon."

Crowley and Rowena scoffed in annoyance at the same time.

"Never did like her," Rowena said haughtily, taking a drink. "So, my lad. Have you been putting _your_ gifts to good use?"

"Nope," Gavin said, taking another drink of beer.

"You just have to learn how to do it," Rowena started enthusiastically. "Once you learn the basics it all starts to come naturally –"

"I know how to do it," Gavin cut her off, continuing to drink. "I just don't."

Rowena glared, and Crowley smirked behind her back. "You sound just like your father as a boy."

"Just as stubborn, too," Gavin promised, and Crowley's smirk widened.

Across the bar, Sara joined Chuck, laying a hand on his shoulder. He was obviously in pain, but gave her a weak smile. She smiled back.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Some water, or something to eat?"

"No, thank you, Sara," he told her. Every moment the color continued the drain from his face, and Sara swallowed, feeling very nervous that this would all be for nothing if Chuck passed before Dean could . . .

She pushed the thought from her mind, turning to join her father.

"He's still out there," Chuck told her, and Sara turned back to him. She sighed, nodding.

"Yeah," she said. "I had a feeling you might say that." She sat across from him. "Do you have any idea where?"

"No," Chuck continued. "He'll jump from vessel to vessel until he finds something strong enough to hold him. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to convince you."

Sara hesitated, then pulled something out from around her neck – it was a simple, odd looking symbol on a leather rope around her neck. Chuck recognized the symbol and smiled.

"A shielding symbol," he acknowledged it. "You've warded yourself against him. Did your father give that to you?"

"Actually I found it on the internet," Sara said, looking down at the symbol. "I wasn't entirely sure if it worked or not, but I suppose it must be if Lucifer isn't trying to speak to me."

"It's working," Chuck confirmed. He took a sharp intake of breath.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked quickly.

"No," he admitted through the spasm of pain. "I'm going fast. It won't be long now."

"I'll get Sam," Sara said, standing and quickly crossing the bar. She laid her hand on Sam's shoulder, and he looked away from his quiet conversation with Cas to acknowledge her.

"It's Chuck," she told him quietly. "I think he's going soon, Sam."

Sam looked grim but nodded, standing and going towards Chuck. Sara sighed and took his seat, rubbing her temples.

"Cas," she said heavily. "Please, _please_ tell me this hasn't all been for nothing."

"I . . . don't know," he admitted after a moment, and Sara's heart sank.

"Chuck?"

Sara frowned at Sam's voice, turning to see him looking around, bewildered.

"Chuck?!" Sam called again, more anxious this time.

"He's gone?" Cas asked, standing.

"He just disappeared!" Sam looked around, walking towards the door. "Chuck?!" His steps slowed as he reached outside, though, staring off into the distance.

"Sam?" Cas frowned, following, and Sara ran after. She heard her father, brother, and grandmother follow.

As they exited the bar, Sara felt the warmth of sunshine on her skin, and squinted up at the sky.

"He did it," Crowley said in awe. The sun was high in the blue sky, normal and beautiful, as though nothing had ever happened.

"He bloody did it," Rowena agreed.

"And Dean?" Cas asked.

They were all quiet. _And Dean_ , Sara wondered as well. If things were back to normal, it must mean Chuck and Amara were both gone, and Dean was . . .

Birds chirped as they flew by, and people began to return to the streets, pointing at the sky and voicing their confusion. Sara looked at the others; her brother looked immensely relieve. Crowley and Rowena both had small smiles of relief. Cas was staring at Sam, who was staring into the sky, face stony. Sara swallowed, stepping to stand beside him, and stare into the sky.

* * *

Claire squinted as the sky was suddenly engulfed in light, and swerved off the road and onto the shoulder the best she could. Her and Alex exited the car quickly, grabbing each other and shielding their eyes against each other as they embraced.

 _This is it,_ Claire thought. _It didn't work. The sky is literally falling._

When nothing happened, though, they separated, opening their eyes and blinking in the sudden, bright sunlight.

Things were back to normal.


	40. Chapter 40

**This is it - the final chapter of the first Wayward Girls story. Not to fear - the first chapter of part 2 will be on New Years Eve!**

 **Thank you so much to all the people who supported the story and me as an author. I love you all dearly for it - Sara would not exist if not for you.**

 **See you for part 2!**

* * *

Rowena hugged Sara close to her, pulling away after several long moments and stroking the girls hair.

"We'll be seeing each other again," Rowena promised. "Very, very soon, dear."

"I'm looking forward to it," Sara smiled politely, waving as her grandmother turned, disappearing. Gavin watched her do so with crossed arms from where he leaned against his truck.

"Not sure about her," he frowned. "I definitely don't trust her."

"Smart boy," Crowley said as he joined them, hands tucked into his pockets.

Gavin shook his head. He stepped forward, giving Sara a quick hug, and then clasping hands with his father.

"Back on the road?" Crowley questioned him.

"I'm headed back to Sioux Falls," Gavin nodded. "Maybe try and get a normal job. I guess we'll see what happens." He looked at Sara. "Call me if you need me. I'll see you when you get back to Jody's."

She nodded, and Gavin got into his truck.

"Son," Crowley said, glancing at his son through the open truck window. "Remember what I told you."

Gavin scowled briefly, but gave a stiff nod. He started his truck, and disappeared down the road, wheels kicking up pebbles and dust behind him.

Crowley walked Sara to the Impala. "I've got some loose ends to tie up, minions to round up," he told her. "I'll stop by the bunker this evening, and we'll have a chat. I suppose there _are_ a few things you deserve to know."

Sara smiled, pleased with the promise of new information about herself, her past, and her family. Her father kissed her forehead, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"I'm proud of you," he said after a moment's hesitation, and Sara beamed.

"Thanks, Dad," she smiled.

He nodded. "Keep an eye on her, Moose," he called to Sam. Sam gave a nod, and Crowley disappeared.

The car ride back to the bunker was quiet and tense. Sara stared out the window, wondering if they could truly have even a moment of peace – she doubted it. Even with the Darkness destroyed or gone or what have you, Dean was _gone_. Things would never be the same, for anyone.

As they arrived at the bunker, Sara made a mental list of things she could do to busy herself. She could start by making something to eat – it was late, and she knew Sam was probably in no mood for food, but he'd have to eat something, even if it was just some toast and tea. He needed to keep his strength up.

Then, she could clean up a bit. The bunker was a bit of a mess after having so many people in it at once, and Claire and Chuck were anything but tidy. There were dishes to do and rooms to straighten, she considered as Cas talked quietly to Sam as they entered the bunker.

After that, she could spend some time practicing with her powers. She was slowly getting a grasp on them, but the whole witchcraft thing threw a wrench in things. No problem, she thought. The bunker has dozens of books on witches and spells. She could practice a few simple spells, gather some ingredients . . .

She was pulled violently from her thoughts, though, as she entered the war room with Cas and Sam and was greeted by an unfamiliar voice. There was a bright flash of light, and Sara shielded her eyes, opening them a few moments later to find Castiel gone.

"Get behind me," Sam ordered Sara, pushing her to a position he could easily shield.

"S-Sam?" Sara exclaimed.

Sam was reaching for his gun, but the intruder advised him not too.

"Sam Winchester. Toni Bevall," she introduced herself. Sara couldn't see from around Sam, but she could feel something was very, very wrong. Sara's head swam at the sudden shock of Castiel being banished atop the other stresses of the day. She caught snippets of the conversation – Men of Letters. They were behind this? She looked around in panic for a weapon.

 _Think, Sara_ , she told herself as Sam busied the woman with conversation. Her heart raced. _You bloody idiot, your blade, use your blade_! Her head shouted, and she quietly reached for the angel blade in her inside coat pocket.

"I wouldn't, dear," the intruder said, and Sara froze.

Sam stepped forward.

"Stop," Toni ordered.

"Put the gun down," Sam reasoned.

"I said stop," she commanded.

"You and I both know you're not going to pull the trigger," Sam retorted.

There was a shot, and Sara jumped back, screaming as she watched Sam collapse, cursing and gasping in pain as blood spread across his jeans.

"Sam!" Sara cried, dropping to her knees beside him, desperately trying to figure out what to do.

"Now," Toni said, shifting her gun to aim directly at Sara's heart. "As for you . . ."

* * *

It was dark when Claire and Alex reached Jody's house. Claire felt a sense of comfort as she looked at the house she called home. The truth was, she had wanted to return to the bunker, to comfort Sam and continue the good fight. But . . .

She simply couldn't stand to be there now.

Jody must have heard the car doors slam; as the girls made their way towards the house, the door opened, and Jody excitedly exited.

"Girls!" she exclaimed as she hurried toward the,. "Oh, my God, when the sky went back to normal I didn't know if it was a good thing or not . . . I tried calling but no one answered, I was worried sick, I was about to come looking for you myself." She stopped on the porch, frowning. "Where's Sara?"

"She's with Sam," Alex said weakly. Jody was shocked when Claire dropped her bag, propelling herself against her foster mother and sobbing into her shoulder, letting loose all the stress and grief of the day. Jody held her, stroking her hair, her face a mask of concern and confusion.

"What's wrong? Baby, what happened? What is it?" she demanded, worried.

Alex swallowed, and Claire sobbed quietly, unable to speak.

"Dean is dead," Alex said hoarsely.

Jody's hand flew to her mouth, and tears began to form in her own eyes. Claire cried harder.

"C-come inside," Jody said, her voice uneven. "Come inside, girls, come on . . ."

"Sara stayed behind to keep an eye on Sam," Alex continued as she entered the house.

Jody nodded, sitting on the couch heavily, holding Claire on her lap as the girl cried.

"Is everyone else . . . was anyone else . . ."

"No," Alex shook her head. "Everyone else is . . . fine, for lack of a better word. Lucifer escaped but Castiel thinks he's too weak to do any damage for the time being."

Jody was in shock, that much was obvious. She gently stroked Claire's hair as she girl cried herself into an unsteady sleep. After a moment Jody removed herself, lifting Claire's head and sliding a pillow under her and covering her with a blanket. She headed into the kitchen.

Alex followed cautiously, watching as her foster mom poured some whiskey into a glass. She downed it quickly, placing the glass on the counter and holding her head.

"All day I've had this . . . _feeling_ in my chest," she said, shaking her head and clutching her heart. "I was worried sick . . . and now that I know about Dean . . ." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "God, that feeling is still in my chest."

"What do we do?" Alex asked quietly.

"We do what everyone does, kiddo," Jody promised, stroking Alex's hair. "We grieve, and we try our best to be okay. After that . . ." she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens."


	41. Chapter 41 (Note from the author)

Hello everyone - Kii here, just coming back to let you all know that Part Two of Jody's House for Wayward Girls is up! You can find it on my page ("Jody's House for Wayward Girls - Season 2."). I hope to see you all back for more of the girls misadventures!

 **After a confrontation with the mysterious Men of Letters, the girls return to their home with Jody in Sioux Falls. Alex has to cope with several shocking additions to her life. Claire struggles to maintain a healthy relationship with her boyfriend, who may or may not be a witch. Sara's powers are getting out of control, and a new addition to Sioux Falls stirs up trouble.**

Check it out on my page! Hope to see you soon!


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